2

Dearest Avery,
Today you are two (or, you were when I started this, who knows when I'll be done with it)! When you are reading this someday, probably in your twenties, possibly even with children of your own, I want you to keep in mind that I'd take a bullet for you. I'd throw myself in front of a moving vehicle to save you. I'd wrassle a bear or a pack of hungry meerkats. And all similar acts of mother love. I want you to know this and keep this in the front of your mind, because this recap? Might not be pretty. It's going to be chock-full of real life scenarios, and how you were, at age almost two. What's the point in sugar-coating, and tricking my memory? Memories do that on their own anyways. It's going to sound like you've driven me to the official brink, and it might not translate as love. But just know that it's all love. Insane unexplainable love. Capisce?
You talk. A lot. Dear God in Heaven. It's very sweet, your voice. For the first half hour of the day. Your voice, child! It's so high-pitched!!! I didn't know nature/God made voices this high. Truly. I'm waiting for some toddler-stage change to take place, because I remember your brother's voice was so sweetly high pitched in the beginning, and the older he got, the deeper it sounded. I don't think this is going to happen to you. Compound this incredibly high-pitched sweet voice with the desire, no, the demand, to be heard all day... and there you have it. Oftentimes unintelligible words and phrases, said at top decibel, over and over. And. Over. You sometimes throw in a outstretched hand, like a politician making a grand point, for good measure. As if this hand motion will help me to better understand you. You also sometimes get very very close to me, and whisper this word or phrase that I'm too dumb to understand. That's pretty much the cutest ever, though. My impatience is crumbled when you do that, because it's indescribably cute. Imagine a deliciously cute little girl, getting mere centimeters from your face, whispering the word 'tassle'... and this look of 'you understand now, don't you?!'.... Yes, I melt from that.
You love to say 'come on Mommy'.. When you want to show me something, you say it, as you do your politicians hand gesture. You also say come on (10 times in a row) when I am driving. And you're in the back-seat, wanting to show me something in a book you're reading. Oh your backseat requests and demands, it's endlessly entertaining. You'll say GO with increasing anger, at any stop sign or red light. I remember your brother went through this stage, but with much less rage. I somewhat recall it being as simple as me explaining 'red means stop. green means go. we have to wait for green.' or something like that. It was a non-issue, like most things. You either have already grasped this concept and are now just toying with my sanity (my hunch), or you just haven't had it click yet (not likely, you're smart. like a velociraptor). Backseat stress is actually in full throttle, currently. Well. Probably not. This is probably just the tipping point, I know. But you and Andrew have started to .. squabble. It's hard to say who's doing more antagonizing. Because you both have your own little tics and quirks. If Andrew wiggles his fingers anywhere near you, like he's about to tickle you (but still far away), you get VERY pissed. You scream 'NO! STOP!' And he hasn't even touched you. I taught him the meaning of the word 'antagonize', and I use it frequently. I warn him to not antagonize you. But of course, he does. And then sometimes it is ALL you doing the instigating. Even when you don't really plan to. Once recently, I honked at a car, and you perked up and yelled TRAIN! (around 40 times in a row).. then after that period of fun, you wildly pointed in random places, desperately looking for the train (that was my car-honk), yelling 'here it comes! here it comes! train! here it comes!'... Andrew tries so hard to kindly redirect you, because oh my gosh. Just do that, right now. Say TRAIN! and HERE IT COMES! in a very high voice, 30-40 times in a row. (*there is no train. ever.) You kind of loathe yourself now right? It's hard, redirecting you sometimes, when your reset button needs pushed. Without sounding like a horrible person (too late, I know. I'm human). It's a lot for a 5 year old to be around sometimes, especially one as mild as your bro. If he was more of well.. a total spazz? I think you two would be more on the same page. But you know, you are both perfectly you. He's truly the yin to your yang, as much as I really dislike that cliche. If there was a time to use it, it would be referencing the two of you. I'm lucky that I get a front row seat, watching your sweet little relationship bloom.
You are very very sweet at heart, as much as I give you a hard time for your constant spunkiness and rage..  We were just earlier reading books, me reading to you and Andrew, and you were ALL up in my grill, trying to turn the pages before it was time, blocking Andrew's view of the book, and just the normal chaos...  I told you to sit on the couch with him, and you very loudly said NO! with an angry finger pointing in my face. I didn't blink, just held my 'I mean bidness, child' stare.. and within 5 seconds, no joke, you said 'I sorry!' and gently patted my shoulder with your sweet pudgy little hand. We just never know what we're going to get with you. Sometimes a situation like that would have escalated into a ridiculous boneless heap on the ground, other times it ends in an apology that melts my weary mother heart. It's fun, the not knowing.
I do sense the slow uprising of drama, though. Whenever you are touched when you ought not be touched (watching your stories, mostly), you yell OWWW! I know a simple nudge or touch doesn't hurt you, because you are a bull in a china shop. You faceplant ALL the time, almost never cry, slam into things as a daily routine with nary the tear. You simply like to say OWWW! dramatically as a way to assert yourself. One of the many ways you assert yourself, of course. It's cute, for now. Aside from a firm grabbing if you're bailing towards the street area, you never feel physical pain from us, as we aren't a spanking family. Or a swatting one, something I can't wrap my head around. You're welcome for that! I imagine I'd be hearing a chorus of OWWWS all day long if we punished opposed to disciplined.
You love love love to sing your ABCs. I have been singing you the ABCs since you popped out of the womb, basically. I did the same with your brother. And he was singing the ABCs just like you are, at around the same age. I think he sang it with a bit more efficiency, but you're in it for the theatrics, obviously. You say about every 5th letter with proficiency, but your really move & shake and sway while you do it. And at the end, there's a very emphatic 'sing wif MEEEEE!'.. big outstretched arms, etc. Other current favorite songs include Mickey. No, not as in Mouse, as in the 1982 hit by Tony Basil. You request it at bedtime when I'm singing you any song you want, while putting on your diaper/lotion/pjs. I don't know all the words, so it's a lot of made up gibberish, but I hold the beat fairly well and you get positively giddy. You love Tainted Love as much as your brother. You know what songs your father and I respectively prefer. Say, if a Coldplay song comes on, you'll say 'Daddy song'.. and if anything by Eddie Vedder comes on, it's 'Mommy song'...
You have developed sort of an evil-villain/genius laugh. This surprises no one. It's very drawn out and exaggerated, and I think it scares new friends we make at the park.
You love to be chased. You'll run off screaming 'I get you Mommy!' (yes despite the fact that I'm the one getting you). Recently, as you run, you grab at your rear end, and say 'Git the booty!' Because you positively LIVE for me say 'I'm gonna get that booty!' and I give it a little pinch. You squeal at the top of your lungs.
In similar fashion, you love to run, away from me. This is a work in progress, because obviously it's not ideal to have you run from me in any place other than home/a contained area. I say STOP but you just keep on. Yesterday, this happened, I said stop, and you STOPPED. I instantly poured on the reinforcement, saying how that was great stopping and great listening and that it made me so happy. You seriously melted, smiling and cuddling into me, just lavishing in the praise. It was pretty cute.
You are a momma's girl, through and through. You cling to me, something fierce. Even your father confirms that he too never recalls a phase/time when Andrew so distinctly preferred one of us over the other. It tickles us, how you choose me, over and over, without fail. It's just the beginning of the beautiful co-dependent mother/daughter relationship. It's too complex for words and too complex for this here blog, just yet. For now, it's just sweet and cute and yes, tiring.
At bedtime, I read you a quick book, and if I'm lucky I get about 30 seconds to just hold you before you tell me 'GO! BED!' before I put you in your crib. I tell you how much I love you, and I always say 'do you know you're my best girl?' and you always say 'yeeeeah...' and smile and nod and just eat it up.
I'm so lucky to have a daughter. I'm even luckier to have you. Happy 2nd birthday, Nugs.