Two is running to find me wherever I am in the house, just to tell me, “Me do burp!”
Two is wanting to help. Wanting to stir the muffin mix, tidy the playroom, get the little broom to help Daddy sweep under the table. Two is swelling with pride when you put your own shoes in your cubby.
Two is discovering your sense of humour; suddenly, Daddy’s wearing Mommy’s hat or your teddy bear “eating” your lunch is SO hilarious.
Two is shaking all over with excitement when you hear the Dora theme song.
Two is the look of delight on your face, as you say, “I did it!” after jumping for the first time.
Two is, apparently, eating the heads off markers.
Two is tentatively calling out, “Mommy okaaay?” whenever I stub my toe, or step outside for a minute to take out the garbage, or squeal while watching So You Think You Can Dance.
Two is dancing. It’s all about the dancing.
And the rocks. Two is also about rocks.
Two is the giant hug I get the very second you get out of the bathtub — even though you love the bath, you love being within hugging range even more. I don’t mind getting wet.
Two is the casual way you say, “Sure!” when I offer you a snack, and the way you exclaim, “YES!” when I ask if you’d like to go outside.
Two is refusing to use your booster seat, refusing to wear a bib, refusing to ride in the grocery cart, refusing to allow someone else to hold the spoon. You’re a big girl now.
Two is swinging your arms as hard as you can as you try to “run” to keep up with your brother and sister.
Two is hiding by covering your head with a towel, because if you can’t see them, they can’t see you.
Two is asking, “What’s that?” while pointing to the same picture in the same book a hundred times over, just to make sure I’ll always identify the cow as a cow.
Two is fearlessly climbing to the top of the play structure at the park to go down the big slide…only to be foiled by the extremely scary ladybug crawling on the slide.
Two is eyes wide open at all times, bright and alert, watching and learning, taking everything in.
Two is lying in bed together, early in the morning, just staring at each other. Because to you, a face is still new and fascinating and wonderful; and to me, your face is new and fascinating and wonderful.
Happy second birthday, Little Miss Sunshine…you really are my sunshine.