Hey Brenna! Do you know you turned two? Yep, almost two weeks ago you managed to become a two year old. It was a little hairy there for awhile - your Dad and I weren't sure you'd make it to two, not with all the screaming and tantruming and ridiculousness. But you dug in and muscled your way into the terrible twos. I am not sure that they will be that so awful bad, because you as an 18 month old was downright unbelievable.
For a very long time we have referred to you as the menace, or train wreck, or trouble - all three monikers you epitomize and happily respond to.
You are our rough and tumble little lady. You walk into walls, you trip over your tiny little feet, you stain every piece of clothing you put on.
Leading up to your birthday you told me and Addie, Dad and your Grandmas that you were turning twwwoooo and you would hold up each of your index fingers on either side of your little nose while grinning. Occasionally I would hear you in the back seat just barely whispering Happy Birthday to you happy birthday to you. And this year you definitely understood and adored the concept of presents.
You are my persnickety little one. You have opinions - lots and lots of them - and you voice them frequently. Your absolute favorite word is No. You say with so many different tones and inflections, even I didn't know it was such a multifaceted word. One of your favorite ways to say no is to loudly sing No Addie No Addie No. It doesn't even faze you if Addie is at school while you are singing this endless anthem.
In the weeks leading up to your second birthday you truly found your voice and have become quite the little chatterbox. Besides no, I often hear:
Mama, what's dat?
Milch, please, more milch
Come, Mommy, come.
Mommeeeeee, where are yoooou?
Fisheeees? Snacks? More snacks Mommy? Pllllleeeeeeaaaaassssssse.
Watch George (said oh so slightly with a French accent) Mommy?
Mommy, where Addie? Where Daddy? Where Grandma?
Elmo? LalaLalaLa Elmo Mommy?
Brenna do it!!
I carry you, Mama.
Gone are any days of silence and I kind of love it. I love watching you watch the world, question the world, figure out the world. You have always been a bit more cautious, more timid, than your sister. I don't draw the comparison as a negative - you are a watcher. A thinker. You assess the person, the situation and think about how you fit in. Your trust is a hard earned commodity, but once someone is in your inner circle, they're golden. I'd like to say that caution comes from me, but it is all your Dad. You are a mini version of your father, right don't to those perfect brown eyes.
You don't dole out hugs and kisses or hellos and smiles to everyone, just your select few. But those lucky few often get blinded by your grin or showered in your slobbery kisses.
You are learning how share, but it's hard. You are desperately trying to figure out how to jump. You love to color and take care of your babies and build things with blocks and Lego's. You are a busy little bee, and only ever sit still for the half hour in the morning that Curious George is on. Other than that you are on the go, exploring, asking, wondering. You don't eat anything but yogurt, applesauce, ham, grapes, strawberries, mac and cheese and smoothies. And snacks, you would happily exist on snack food. You think it is horrifically unfair that you aren't allowed to have gum, and beg for candy daily.
Much like your Dad, you hate the camera. Rarely do I catch you with a smile; I think you actually frown and stick your tongue out on purpose.
You adore your sister and miss her all day while she is at school, but you hate sharing Mommy when Addie comes home. Homework hour in our house is the hardest hour of the day for you (and maybe for me).
You love rocking and having stories read you. The sweetest moments with you are when we are singing You are my Sunshine before bed. You always whisper gently More sunshine Mama? and nuzzle your head on my shoulder.
You always get more sunshine.
Just earlier today I was emailing with an old friend who is expecting her second child. I warned her that it's exhausting keeping two little people alive, but worth it. As I told her, we had no idea what we were missing out until you barreled in our lives.
You are my sweet little sunshine - and when I say little I mean it. You are a bitty little thing, 10th percentile for weight and 17th for height. You are your Dad's personality wrapped up in my little body. And I think you are pretty darn perfect.
Someday you'll stumble across this blog and count how many posts your sister has and how many you have - let me apologize now. You say hilarious things. You are full of personality and amuse me every day - but you never stop. Ever. So I rarely sit down to write anymore - and as I sit here now, 90 minutes after I put you to bed, I can still hear you upstairs chattering away to bunny, and I can't help but smile because even when it is time to stop, you have no idea how to.
We love you sweet B Bear and look forward to the rest of the adventure you are bound to take us on.