Dibbs: Two Years

My baby. We decided you were terribly two about two months ago, but as of yesterday, you are official.

You are absolutely adibbable.

You are lovey, huggable, incredibly thoughtful. You are everyone's friend and Mommy's little helper, standing at the sink washing dishes (which is really just filling cups of water and dumping them).

My 4 Year Old

My sweet girl,

You are four years old.

We have learned a lot about you in the last year that we didn't understand before.

In July, you were screened for diabetes and celiac. Mommy and Daddy were delighted to hear that you were not at high risk for diabetes, but the celiac results we received in August were quite the shock. You were finally officially diagnosed in September and have been gluten-free ever since. You are doing great and only occasionally slip up. You announced the other day at breakfast, out of nowhere, "Gluten makes me sick." Yes, it does. You're getting it. Whew.

If I can get you to sit still for a photo, it's usually for a silly face.

You keep us on our toes and we are constantly learning how best to help you navigate the big, wide world. We've learned that your tendency to go wild in certain environments (restaurants, exhibit halls, public places, social events) is not because you're excited to be there, but because you're overwhelmed. We didn't understand, but we do now, and we promise that we will help you learn how to deal with your social anxieties.

You and Daddy enjoyed the gardens outside the Gluten Free Expo
after we needed to step away from the crowds and decompress.

Dibbs: One Year

Son,

Oh wow. Every time I say I have a son, something goes all over me. I have a SON.

It's tough to say no to this face.

Well, boy, you have reached it. The end of infancy. The one year mark. You're almost a toddler.

One

I say 'almost' because you're still only cruising along my furniture rather than walking. But you can hustle up a staircase faster than the pets you're chasing, so it's only a matter of time. We can usually hear you crawling through the house, a plastic toy in each hand. Click, clack, click, clack. The faster the clicks, the more mischief you're up to.

Three Ears Old

Sweetie, you are three.

It's hard-earned. You haven't wasted a second of it. You took two by the handlebars and rode it to the edge. I imagine three won't be much different.

You are such a little sparkplug. Never a dull moment. You can make a toy of almost anything. Silicone device skins become race cars and rocket ships. Your toothbrush is a trumpet. My pump case is a salon chair for giving your toys haircuts. You are take charge. If we won't give you scissors, you'll go get them yourself. That's right, baby. Empowerment.

Two

My beautiful Little Sweetie. This week, you turned TWO.

You're such a funny monkey. You climb everything, you're utterly fearless, and you're rarely sitting still. Watching you in a group of kids is a lot like watching a short tornado. A giggling one.

You're chatty. You've got more than 150 words to your credit and are adding them at the rate of 2 per day. Including the entire alphabet (though you often skip E and you pronounce Fa, Mimma, Nimma, See, and voW with your own creative stylings). You can count from 1-10 forwards and backwards (often ending with blast off - "Toff!").

And as of the last week or so, you're finally making simple 2 word sentences. "Bye bye wawee!"

You still love the wawee...I mean, water. Showers, baths, pools, spray grounds, water tables...you love to be surprised and splashed. And your laugh is probably my favorite sound in the whole world.

Your favorite toys all come in 2's - the Mickey & Minnie we bought you on our Disney Cruise (see below), the Hello Kitty and Choco Cat we got at Build-a-Bear (see above), the small hand sized green basketball and white baseball you got at your visit with Santa. And you make them go on all kinds of adventures. Although Mommy and Daddy are adamant that none of those friends join you in the tub.

When you give hugs, you say "Awwww" every time (because that's what we say.) And if someone leaves the pantry or fridge open even a crack, you pull out potato chips or hot dogs and declare it time to "Nack." I'm convinced that there's never been a toddler who can eat like you. You love chicken, grapes, sausage, PB&J, bratwurst, pretzels, broccoli, grilled cheese, and strawberry milk.

You're taller than most of the kids your age. Don't know where that comes from. You're just under 35 lbs and nearly 3 feet tall. Already wearing 3T clothes. Your favorite shirt has a monkey on it. "Mummies - Eeee Eeee Aaah Aaah."

You are obsessed with colors lately. All of them. So I don't know exactly what your favorite is right now. You love to recite them and tell us what colors you see. "Wyeet Pat Shed Gee Boo Yeddo Poople Peek Oge Brow..."

Your favorite book right now is "Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?" or "Baabee baabee see." You know it by heart and when we get to the page with the teacher with the brown hair and glasses, you always call her Mama. And I'm secretly amused by that.

Your next year is going to bring some HUGE changes. We're going to start working on ditching the "pahshy" and using the "pobby." And the biggest change is that your status as center of the universe is about to shift ever so slightly. It's a good thing we've been working so hard on "share-bing."

Your brother will be here next week.

Betcha didn't see that coming.

We have tried to talk to you about babies. You know that they are little. That they cry. That they go "night night." That we expect you to be soft. What you don't yet know is that it's about to go from vague concept to everyday reality.

I think you'll adjust and ultimately enjoy big sisterhood. He's going to need someone to teach him how to climb over the furniture and throw balls and pull the cat's tail.

Ahem.

Anyway, your daddy and I are amazed by you. Amused by you. And you have us wrapped around your long and lovely little fingers.

You are my everyday sidekick, my nap buddy, my constant companion every minute of every day. You share my pillow, my iced tea, my nose. Your fingers are so often twirled in my hair.

I will always love you and be excited for the ways in which you're growing up and discovering the world.

You are our monkey. Our princess. Our two year old.

Two.

One

You are one. My little Sweetie. One!

Someday you might ask me about your personality at this age. What you loved. What you said. Who you were beginning to be.

You love to point to the cats first thing in the morning and declare that they are "cat." (The dogs are also "cat," but it lacks the same enthusiasm.)

You say "cake" when you want something because you make the same sign for "more" that you make for "pattycake" and then, somewhere in there, we introduced actual cake. Confusing, but it works.

After enjoying a banana last week, you made the sign for "more" ("cake"), pointed to the basket with the yummy yellow fruit, said "a-nana," and devoured a second whole banana. I was impressed.

You love the sound that your new squeaky shoes make when you walk, but you prefer to be barefoot. You can show off your foot or your toes when asked. You can "gimme five" and "gimme foot." You shun socks once I put them on your feet, but excitedly lift your foot and spread your toes whenever I say "sock."

You have this funny little thing you do with your fingers during Itsy Bitsy Spider (you'll figure it out - that one's hard!) and you whistle any time you hear the word "whistle" (or if my students are trying to sing).

You figured out quickly that banging on the piano with two hands results in optimum noise output and you love your new toy piano. Your favorite toy has to be your set of stacking cups though - because you can bang them.

You like to splash in the pets' water bowl even though your mama asks you not to, but you've finally mastered a sippy cup for water - which you grab for during dinner to chug between handfuls of meat. We also can't keep you from drinking your bathwater…which you do repeatedly and with gusto. You are a waterbug.

You assume that Tivo put the bloops there for your amusement. You don't know that I strategically assemble items on my nightstand every night so that you can take them and throw them in the floor every morning. Clock, TV remote, CGMS, lancet device, bottle of test strips, pacifiers...glass of iced tea...(whoops).

You like to choose. You choose which color diaper you will wear, which outfit we'll put on for the day, and which book we will read first. You deliberate and then commit to one excitedly. So Mama purposely made four different colors of cupcake for your birthday party. You chose pink. No one was surprised.

Your daddy and I are so in love with who you are and so proud of how much you've grown. We want you to know that we have had the best year of our lives. You attack us with big, sloppy open-mouthed kisses every morning to wake us and any time we say "I love you."

You are my one. My little one. My precious one.

One.

Sweet Sixteenth (of October)

Today my Facebook wall was bombarded with loving wellwishes, I got to eat an embarrassing array of junk food, and Ryan brought over his guitar for a live performance of Happy Birthday. This may have been my best birthday ever. Quiet. Unapologetic. I got to take a nap.

My little Sweetie and the Hubs and I are all fighting off colds, so it was a rough night last night. The baby was snotty and congested and we spent part of the night rocking in the rocking chair so she could breathe. Despite the stuffy nose, you can see that she was her usual precious self.

So we spent the day at home. Ordered take-out, watched Netflix. I swept the kitchen. And it was everything I thought it could be.

Mom and Dad, thank you so much for being amazing parents for the last 31 years. Friends, family, & students, thank you for making my life richer and for never failing to remind me that you care. K & B, thank you for spending today with me doing absolutely nothing special - it was special to me.