Dear Paisley: Month 23

March 6th, 2012

Hey there little firecracker! I’ll save the redundancy of how bowled over I am yet again at your growth and development. There’s just too much to keep up with, but Lord knows I do my best. You’re basically breaking my heart this month. I actually had to say outloud to someone yesterday – “She’ll be two next month.” Not in April, not this spring, next month. It’s THAT close!

This month’s letter is pretty much going to be filled with all of the things you say. The list is long and completely endearing.

“Daddyyyy… are you?” This isn’t exclusive to daddy but anything you’re looking for. Mommy, Jessica, Fuzzy, Baby. We’ll work on finding the “where” in that sentence.

“Snowing! I Like It!” We got you all bundled up to go out and play in this winter’s ONLY snow day. (Thank. The. Lord. Mama doesn’t like the cold.) You just kept screaming how much you liked it and watched it fall to the ground. Once I set you down on the ground, your feet glued to the sidewalk. You refused to move and didn’t want to play it, repeating “I not! I not!” I may have thrown you in the snow and watched you kick around like a turtle on your back. Progesterone shot day 12… we’re even. Any time you’re a little bit cold you’ll tell me “I freezing cold.”

“Bye bye Mama, See yater mama.” Again, insert anyone’s name here, but this is your new farewell greeting. You rattle it off super fast as if it’s almost all one word. It’s also spoken in a very sing-song manner and makes leaving very sweet.

“I’m all cozy.” I have no idea where you came up with this but anytime you’re bundled up in your fuzzy you’ll tell me that you’re cozy. You say it in a tone that sounds surprised, as if, check this out, I’m not cold any more!

“Hands.” This is a question as well as a command. It means you want to hold my hand and it makes honey rain out of my heart. Cuddling in bed, riding in the car, or just wanting to go from one room to the other, “hands” just means we aren’t close enough and that we need to fix that. I love your little teeny tiny hands inside of mine.

“Squeeze me my toot.” Nature takes its course even in sweet little blue-eyed golden-haired doll babies like you. You fart, a lot, and you always giggle. You don’t volunteer and excuse me, but when prompted you’ll say squeeze me, which makes me laugh. If I’m specific about what it is you’re excusing you’ll say “squeeze me my toot” or burp.

You’re a slave to your routine. Or should I say, we are slaves to your routine. You like things to be a certain way and any deviation sends us all in to a tailspin of horror. In a world where horror is you and throwing a fit and us trying to make it right as quickly as possible. For instance, during the day when Jessica is here, you’re under the impression that only she can cater to your needs. I’ve come downstairs at lunch and tried to put you in your high chair to get you there sooner and give her a hand and you refuse. “No! Ca-ca do it!” you’ll tell me. The same goes if I try to change a diaper, put your socks on, or get you from your crib. Jess is on duty and mama is most definitely not. In the mornings, if daddy and I deviate from the wake-up routine, you correct it. Only mommy can take you from the crib, we must take with us you, the fuzzy, the baby, and the pillow. In a way, I think it’s kind of ridiculous and try to keep moving forward with whatever we’re trying to do because no one can be THAT married to a routine and be sane. But, I also try to respect the fact that you’re exercising some new-found independence and to that extent that you can are trying to control your environment. I get that.

We had some fun recently that definitely pushed you out of your comfort zone. You wanted to pain on the kitchen counter, so I stripped you to your diaper, got out your supplies, and let you paint. When you were covered in red, blue, and green from head to toe, I decided it was either to drop you in the kitchen sink then haul you upstairs while trying to keep my clothes clean. You decided I was trying to set your bare body down in a fit of burning flames. Seriously? You forced your body in to a 90-degree angle and refused to sit in the sink. It was like the most unnatural thing you’d ever experienced. I finally turned on the sprayer and convinced you it was just like the bath and there you sat for 45 minutes until we made your little wrinkled raisinette body get out.

Your favorite toy right now is your stacking blocks. You have a round set and a square set. You carry them room to room, insist on traveling with them, and always put them away as a complete and ordered set. You prefer the round set and once all 8 cups are stacked you call them “my tassle” – or castle. Your absolute favorite part of playing with the stacking cups is knocking them over. You get the BIGGEST kick out of doing this and giggle maniacally when they fall down.

We also celebrated Ayyam-i-ha in Oklahoma. You had a blast playing with Emilee for three days and being the little apple of all the grandparents’ eyes. You got some super fun new things – like a Disney princess piano that you, of course, call “Beauty Bell P’ano.” You got that big green polka dot bean bag. And we got you the Finding Nemo DVD and it’s become the new post-nap favorite. (As is Snow White during your Tuesday’s at Grandma Rochelle’s.)

It’s been A LOT of fun with you this month, even though we’re all learning to navigate the obviously terrible twos. It’s not that you’re so terrible to be around, it’s that you are most definitely a clone of my personality and you are fiercely independent and think that mine and your dad’s existent is purely to be in your way. I promise to work on letting you stand on your own to miniature feet in the coming weeks as long as you promise to use your DAMN WORDS and keep snuggling with me in the morning.

I love you bug.


PS – in case you were wondering if you were going to have a sibling, the answer was already pretty strongly no. However, next Tuesday I’m having my left ovary removed (<— Reading that isn’t approved for all audiences, just saying, lottttta detail in there), and so those chances are “20%” slimmer according to Dr. W. I’m really, really glad you play so well on your own and that the three of us like each other so much! xo