July 2, 2007

One for the money, TWO for the show.

You've turned two and what a show you are!

You are a born performer. You sing and dance ALL THE TIME. In your estimation, any elevated surface was put there solely for your performance enjoyment. Before I moved you up to the two year old class at church last week, you apparently had your own little fan club in the nursery with your buddy Brayden. Your teachers told us that you both would sit at the snack table and you would belt out "The B-I-B-L-E", and when you were done he would just clap and clap. (If he's anything like his dad, he'll be able to accompany you soon, and if he's anything like his mom, he'll be able to do your taxes. So really it's a win/win with that friendship.)

You are also highly, HIGHLY attuned to fashion. Much more so than your sisters. I'm not sure if it's just a product of you being the third girl, or if it's genetic (probably a little of both), but at two you care A LOT about what you wear. You get excited when I tell you it's time to get dressed. And frustrated when I continuously fail at choosing the right thing. Our favorite trick of yours to show people, is to say "Baby, show (so and so) your shirt". You throw your shoulders back and proudly stick out your tummy to show off your outfit.

However, this strong sense of style can create quite a problem when you're two and very active. Once while staying at your Aunt Bekah's, you got yourself wet. (I think you were playing in the toilet. A nasty habit, that thankfully you seem to have outgrown.) Since I hadn't sent a change of clothes, Aunt B had to make do with some of Happy Boy's old outgrown clothes. You knew instantly that these were NOT girl clothes, and you let her know in no uncertain terms that you were not pleased with these turn of events.

While you are a slave of fashion, you feel that shoes are optional. And you usually opt Not. I don't ever pick you up from class with your shoes on. And I often have to trek out into the backyard to figure out where you disposed of them last. I like to say that you were born country. Never mind though, I love it. You're little feet still have that toddler look to them, and I could just eat them up. I think part of the reason that you don't like shoes is that they hide your beautifully painted toes. You will frequently bring me nail polish and then stick out your feet. However, the other day, your independence kicked in and you decided that I was an unnecessary step in that process. I found you in the kitchen painting your toenails (and your toes, and your feet, and the hard wood floors) a lovely shade of red. I too went a shade of red that could not possibly be described as lovely.

Like your sisters, you are not one of those toddlers with a ton of hair. Unlike your sisters, you are partially to blame for this. The back of your head reveals your hair growth potential.

On the right side is a cute little tuft of hair that has a little bit of curl to it. The left side is much more modest in appearance. You have a habit of sucking your thumb with your right hand while your left hand rips out plays with hair. Admittedly, this was a trait passed on from your momma. So I'm hopeful, that just as I eventually stopped, you will too. While you won't be helping out locks of love anytime soon, if there was a charity called lashes of love, you'd be their spokesperson. Your lashes go for miles and miles. Maybe I should pull a few out and glue them to the back left side of your head.

Baby, your daddy and I love you with every fiber of our being. Every day we are reminded of how blessed we are that God chose you for our family. Happy birthday my love!