Tuesday, December 13, 2011


We’ve been seeing it coming. There is suddenly A Will in this one. An entitlement. And tomorrow her age will catch up with her ‘tude.
DSC_0860     Actually, I haven’t minded two with the other three kids. The truth is that the two-year-old’s expression of independence and frustration, while dramatic, is still funny or even evokes sympathy. Three is really where it becomes unattractive and, in my experience, intensifies. I’m pretty sure that whoever coined the term The Terrible Twos was just a fan of alliteration. These pictures are of a 45 minute fit she threw (no one knew what started it), most of which she spent with her head under my dresser. See…funny and cute.

The other great thing about two is that they become distractible. If you’re at Church or a restaurant you can give them a few crayons or a book and there’s a chance that they might not ruin your experience. And they become more reliable boob-tube watchers. Very important when you need that time alone. Distractability…it’s worth the wait.

DSC_0755 So, back to THIS nearly two-year-old. She’s a doll. This past year has been great…it has been a true joy being able to soak up her babyhood. We’ve been busy - but not busy in the sense of growing more babies. She’s been the baby longer then any of the others has been the baby and it’s been sweet.

She’s the kind of kid who flies under the radar most of the time…joining into the fray without forcing herself to the center. Though the other kids love to include her in their play – even inventing games that revolve around her. They dress her up, read her books, let her mess up their stuff. I’m definitely seeing how easy it is to spoil the youngest. And how youngests can grow up thinking that the whole world adores them. Because for most of their young years their whole world does adore them!

Over the past few months she’s been trying on her big girl persona…learning new words everyday and trying to make things happen in her tiny universe. For example, she’s always the first to ask for a vitamin, or to brush her teeth – showing her mastery over her familiar routines and surroundings. We’ve also noticed her practicing her anger. Trying out different scowls at the dinner table. She’ll wear one for a while and then a smile will creep out until she forgets that she’s supposed to stay in character.
She appears to be a forgiving little lady. She doesn’t hold grudges – although she may retaliate with decisive force. So don’t go taking candy from this baby or you’ll end up with a mini-slap.
Her very favorite thing in the world is to rub her some belly. Mine, daddy’s, Anthony’s, her own. She’s dogged. She WILL get to that belly no matter where you are or what you’re wearing, “dress or no dress – that belly is mine.” The other day in Costco she was in the cart and worked for a good 10 minutes to dig past her coat, her sweater and finally her overalls to get to her own  belly. She was successful.
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Dogged, I tell you. She has drawn blood from my belly button from shear rubbing-friction. Aside from the blood-loss this has been a great thing because it means that she’s willing to sit still for about 1000% longer then Thomas was willing to sit still at this age. We can go to the movies as a family, we can have adult conversations, we can watch the news in the morning. As long as you have a  “pabah” (pacifier) and a belly that you are willing to offer up then there’s a whole world of things that 2 year old Thomas would never sit for.

Friday, December 9, 2011

This moment…

Thomas has toothpaste smeared all over his belly and hair mixed with snot all over his face because he screamed the whole haircut long. He peed all over the couch and Anthony because I forgot to change his nighttime diaper and he overflowed. But the coup de gras is the newly cut hair (from 6 heads) and the dumped out rice (thank you rosie) missed together and spread to all four corners of the first floor (that, of course, is the price you pay taking the time to get the haircuts done)…and the vacuum cleaner is broken.
What to do? It looks like I should sit and eat chips and Hershey kisses, watch reruns of reruns and leave the lunchmeat and mayo on the counter to grow things. Ah…the good life.