Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Olivia, March & April

You are two and almost a half.  OH BOY are you two.  Seriously.  You've embraced the entirety of the definition that make parents of older children quake in their shoes.  We still love you to pieces, but holy hell girl...you are TWO.

You started swim classes, which is good because I needed to gain insight into whether or not it was normal to be this totally fearless in the water.  Turns out you've raised the eyebrows of your instructor.  And here we go.

I've recently abandoned your obsession with Little Einsteins, which only a month ago was where the sun set and rose.  Now, you're obsessed with tea parties and Daddy's poker chip set.  I'm considering it a wash in the parenting analysis.

You have learned the art of negotiating.  Or maybe it's tortuous wearing down of your opposition.  Either way, it will serve you well in business or law school.

Your girly side is emerging slowly.  No doubt, your favorite place is digging in the dirt, but you now allow us to put pigtails in your hair on a regular basis and possibly a headband for 10 minutes or so.  You've even requested dresses.  An interesting evolution.

We go on hikes now, you and I.  It's amazing for me, and I think you have a great time, too.  Sometimes you let Caden come along for kicks and giggles.  You especially love the felled trees ("oh no, mommy!  broken!") and walking along their trunks.  You call acorns coconuts and are getting better an not falling over rocks and roots.  When you know the hike is over, you sit in the closest field of sprouting flowers in protest and close your eyes, convinced that if you don't see me, then it's not time to go. 

You jump off the side of the pool now.  Without fear or trepidation.  The look on your face is worth millions of dollars.  And the thousands of early morning Saturday swim lessons/team practices that will no doubt anchor our weekends for years to come.  You are a fish.

You have finally really adjusted to school and stopped insisting every day that you've had a "bad day, mommy.  bad day."  This is especially good for me, since it broke my heart a little every time I heard you say that.  Now, you look forward to school and have started making friends. 

You tell Daddy and me that you love us all the time.  It is one of my absolute favorite things in the world.

We've started doing movie nights on Saturdays.  Your favorites are Peter Pan or anything Tinkerbell and anything with Pooh in it.  Popcorn is an essential part of the equation.  As is your parents on the couch cuddled under our green fleece blanket. 

You're learning more and more about frustration, patience, and waiting.  And as much as I love you, you still have a lot more to learn about all of these things.

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