To Lorelei, On Her 2nd Birthday

Then.

Now.

 Lorelei! My little girl whose mood changes every 30 seconds! Happy birthday, sweet girl.

This past year, you have been the embodiment of independence, spunk, wry smiles, and bad hair. You started using your words, spouting off everything from "MINE!" to "MOOOOOOOMMMY!" to "Hi Emma!" to "diaper poopy" to "I love you."

You have tested me, dear Lorelei. You have screamed and screamed and screamed. Why? I don't know. DO YOU?

Lorelei, you have your loves. You love music, lollipops, The Little Mermaid, Elmo, going to gymnastics, being read to, dancing, and flipping light switches. Oh! And walks in the stroller.

And Lorelei, you have your hates. You hate hats on your head, sticky fingers,  getting into your car seat, strangers, getting dressed, having sunscreen put on, getting your nose wiped, and me setting you down.

That last one? WE NEED TO WORK ON THAT. (Mama is tired, baby girl.)

You gave up your binky--a major feat for all of us. It almost killed us---3 weeks of newborn-phase wakings and wailings. But you did it.

Charlotte is your Familiar, a hand to hold, a lap to sit on, a body to cuddle with. The two of you share something that is utterly between you girls. Hold onto it.

Last night, my darling girl, I watched you sleep. (Actually, I got in bed with you, stroked your cheek, and stared in awe at you.) I remembered you as a jolly fetus, somersaulting in my tummy; now you somersault in your Saturday morning gymnastics class, ending each tumble with a giant proud grin. I remembered you nursing, fresh from the womb; now I watch you competently eat with a spoon and fork--and you proudly grin with a "YUM!" I remembered you as a blob-baby, beached on a blanket and completely dependent on others; now I watch you run down hallways, across lawns and playgrounds, through the mudroom door and into my arms.

You're my snuggly Lorelei, my feisty Lorelei, my freaking HILARIOUS Lorelei, my too-smart-for-your-own-good Lorelei, my holy-crap WILLFUL Lorelei. My kissy, huggy Lorelei. You can be so unreasonable and so unbelievably sweet---all in the amount of time it takes me to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. 

Two years is not much time--barely a fraction of what I hope is a long, happy life for you. But my, you have jammed a great deal into two years! We love you so much. You've tested my patience greatly these past few weeks, and I'm glad today is your birthday. I'm glad we're celebrating you coming into the world, reminding us how fantastically LORELEI you are, how we can't imagine life without your wry smile and raised eyebrow, or your perpetual bedhead.

We love you oodles, sweet Lorelei. Happy birthday.