I remember a time when I had so very many pictures of E. After all, she was the baby and even though she was number 3, she was in her fair share. Then she started walking and talking and having an opinion about everything and I wasn’t able to get as many pictures. Or, I had to show her every.single.picture on the back of the camera or phone. And that gets old.
Now, I just sneak them and capture all of her awesomeness (and none of her ‘tude. Because there definitely isn’t any two year old ‘tude here!)
I don’t think you know you are two. I think you see yourself as at least 5 or 7. You definitely think you are as old as your sisters. Of course, you always want to be with them, to know where they are, what they are doing and how you can do it, too. But sometimes, we steal away and get to have some time together.
And, sometimes, you dress yourself and mommy doesn’t fight those battles. So, you rock your “fip-fops” with the socks. (Yes, this one will go in your senior yearbook/slideshow or whatever it is they do 16 years from now!) And you give me that look and I swear I can see you at 15. Rolling your eyes. Telling me to knock it off.
And then you quickly remind me that you are still two. And you are one of my babies. (“Pease peel banana…..noooooo…..why peel banana. Put back”) And sometimes, you remind me that you are a little bit of a bigger sister when “Baby B” (I need to get you on film saying it because your inflection is just so) is still the baby, and grabs onto your hair with the hand strength of a pit bull’s jaws.
There are definitely those fun terrible two moments, but the number of times in a day you crack me up is far greater than the number of times of all of those other emotions.
Sometimes, mommy just needs to write you a letter. And one day, a long, long time from now, you will totally understand!