To Emry

My Little Girl,

Today you are two years old. One! Two!

This past year has been full of so many changes. This time last year, you would happily sit wherever we put you, playing contentedly with whatever toys were within reach. You weren’t even crawling, and I wondered if you ever would before you decided to attempt walking. But you did crawl…and then at 18 months you started walking. And today you multi-task at your play – lawn bowling with me while blowing bubbles. You come by that honestly.

You have gone from smiling and cooing to giggling and narrating your entire day almost non-stop and always in third-person. I love to watch you play with your dollhouse or your stuffed animals, mimicking your daily life as you train them to “tinkle-potty” or walk to the library. You’re a busy little person. You’re very good at puzzles, you can count up to three (and sometimes up to six, although you tend to skip the number four), you can say some of your alphabet and fill in the blanks of the first four verses of Psalm 23 as I’ve taught you. You love to read books, especially Biscuit, and I love listening to you read the same books to your stuffed animals. Your favorite books are dog-eared in the right upper corners because you turn your pages just like I do, only rougher.

You are a very observant little girl. The other day you watched a little boy throwing rocks in the river. Although you know how to throw the rocks, you watched how he pulled his arm back and then did the same, hurling your rocks twice as far as you had before. You know how to sweep, and use a screwdriver, and stir cookie dough just by watching (even if your skill level is just beginning). And while you love to watch other kids, you are never pressured to follow the bigger kids in their games. You know your own mind and make your own decisions. You come by that honestly, too.

You have the memory of an elephant (as they say). The other day you picked out a shirt and informed me you had worn it to “Mr. ‘n Ms. Timko” (your Sunday School teachers), which you had the evening they babysat you three weeks ago. You talk about your “old house” all the time and tell us the story about the spider on the light switch that fell down and was found again near the ceiling fan before Papa took care of it every time you see that light switch. If I say you may do something after your nap, you remind me as soon as you get up. I am learning to watch what I say.

Most of the time, you are a very sweet girl. You are gentle with your brother (unless you feel it is your turn for attention, which you then make very plain). You play nicely with other kids, and you are willing to learn. But you can also be very stubborn, whine to get your own way, and potty-training has been an arduous journey. Some days I just want to give up. But I won’t. Because I love you.