To My Two Year Old

Sweet little girl,

You’re two.

We celebrated your birthday this weekend and you were into it every step of the way. Your eyes sparkled with glee each of the half a dozen or so times we sang Happy Birthday to you during the day. You reached up to the counter and stuck your finger in the powdered sugar at the very edge of the cake.

You begged to open your presents before the guests even arrived.You greeted your relatives excitedly when they arrived, then got shy and ran and wrapped your arms around mom’s legs needing to be picked up.

For some reason you didn’t like the whole huge group of us singing to you –there were 25 or so of us. We were loud and I think we embarrassed you with all that concentrated attention. Your face crumpled and you buried your face in mom for a minute. But as soon as we quit, you recovered and blew out your candles with a huge grin. One perfect little drop of drool hit the cake as you blew, making a tiny damp circle in the powdered sugar. Your brother immediately declared that piece to be yours.

You loved the pixy sticks that all the kids got in little pink gift bags, and spent a long time sticking your finger in the sugar where it spilled on the table, licking over and over. The next morning that little spot was still sticky.

You tore into your gifts with gusto, shredding each piece of paper much smaller than it needed to be to remove the gift. You exclaimed ‘Dora’ delightedly over the book your one grandma gave you, and shrieked with glee when the cars ran down the race track that your other grandma gave you.

When it was time for people to go home, you went out on the porch with me to wave people off, yelling, “Thank you, come again!” over and over, to everyone’s delight.

Oh, my girl, how did we get so blessed to have you?

We first knew you were ours in February, 2005, when you were 3 months old. You were a tiny squirt then, dressed in a green Mickey Mouse sweatsuit.

The day I first held you in my arms almost four months later was one of the sweetest days of my life. Your were floppier than a 6 month old should be, just from lying in the bed in the orphanage. You could barely hold your head up, and you wouldn’t support an ounce of your weight on your legs even for a second. But you were chubby and bright eyed and you caught up fast, and best of all you were utterly primed to fall in love.

We have fallen in love, haven’t we, sweetie?

You are the huggiest, cuddliest, most satisfactory little girl. You surprise me every now and then by smacking me right on the lips when I didn’t even know it was coming. And your sweet little voice saying, ‘I yuv you, mommy….” Each time you say that, I clutch that perfect golden moment to my heart and say, THIS is it, this is why I so much adore being a mommy.

I think of your other mommy today. I don’t know where she is… she may already be in heaven. I pray always, but especially today, that wherever she is she will feel a peace and know that you are vibrant and loved and brilliant and thriving.

I wish she could have seen that moment today when your daddy came in and tickled your sister, and you, not wanting to miss out, presented him with your tummy too, only to discover with a scream that his hands were icy cold and he was now warming them up on your round brown belly. And how you ran away screaming and laughing, but then went right back and offered your belly to him for more tickles, even though they were with cold fingers.

I wish your first mom could laugh with me over the fiery determination you show when you’re defending a toy from an encroaching sibling, or the funny sassy things you say. I wish she could kiss your precious face. I wish she wasn’t missing out on the beautiful gift that is you.

I will thank her for the gift of you the only way I can: by loving you with every fiber of my heart and caring for you with the best that is in me.

I love you, precious little one.

Happy birthday.

(More pictures here)

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