On the Day You Turned Two…

Dear Astrid,

Two.

Just yesterday as I listened to you scream again – but this time about which show you wanted to watch before nap, which resulted in no show because I am mean like that – I tried to remind myself what a true miracle you are. Because frankly, you are difficult. And not difficult in an ‘oh she is two and this is typical behavior kind of way’ – but in a seriously you have not stopped screaming at me since you were born kind of way. I remember those letters I wrote to you in the past and everyone was ‘oh she will grow out of it’ – but you haven’t and now I wonder why those people don’t come over and buy me a pony. Because I deserve a pony for raising you. And wine. More wine. Not for my pony though. Drunk ponies are never funny.

And it’s not that you are naughty or have bad behavior or I worry about your future – you just take every emotion you have and times it by 100 and let us know that is how you are feeling with such fierce determination we pause and wonder how such a little body can hold that much inside.  I worry for your future boyfriends. And for when you reach puberty. Because when you are mad – oh my word let’s just stop time for five hours while you deal with it. When you are sad – the cry, oh the cry – I think you should have a career on stage…but the love…

When you are happy and like me for awhile – the hugs. Oh the hugs. You reach around my neck and put your lips on mine 45 times while squeezing me tighter and asking if I popped yet from your squeezes and in between kisses you say “oh I love you – oh I love you too – oh mama – oh mama – oh I love you.”

And I melt and forget that two hours ago you had me in tears because I gave you the wrong lunch. The lunch that you requested. And yes I do use the word requested with you because baby talk drives me mad. amen.

You are at your happiest when you can sit on my lap – or Eloise’s lap – suck your thumb(oh egads what am I going to do about that) rub your blankies against your face and just exhale and relax. You can sit there for hours.

But then I think a north wind blows and something is a buzz kill and you start to yell at all of us again.

Esther says you are going to end up in ‘Baby Jail.” Pretty sure there is not such a place. But maybe there is and I just don’t know about it because my other two babies were really nice.

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