Letters to Carrots : Month Twenty-Two

**Bear with the lack of pictures - I've been computer-free (not by choice!) for over a month now and haven't gotten a chance to sort my pictures yet. They'll be added when I have a computer again!**

April 7 to May 7, 2013

Dear Care-Bear,

Man, almost two. Almost-two is seriously fun and seriously challenging. Almost-two is full of giggles and fits and singing and licking.

Licking?

Yes, licking. YOU LICK ME. What is that?? You did it at first when you were pretending to be a dog, but now you just think my reaction is hilarious. (My reaction is the rightful, honest one: "EWWW! Gross!").

You're a spirited kid. Your highs are highs, but even your lows are pretty high. You've yet (KNOCK ON ALL THE WOOD) to have a giant, epic tantrum that couldn't be calmed or that lasted longer than a few minutes.  I still take you out and about and to restaurants and stores and places where there are other people and can be fairly confident (AGAIN WITH THE WOOD KNOCKING) that you'll be good, and probably even utterly charming.

Speaking of eating out - you sit in a booster seat now. WHAT? Yes. I know. Time. Flying. Fast. You LOVE it, sitting in a 'real' chair with the grown-ups and kicking your legs over the booster. They aren't quite as stable as high chairs, so I get a bit nervous since you still have all of your acrobatic tendencies and are probably going to flip right out of the booster at some point, but it hasn't happened...yet.

Almost-two is also full of choices. "White socks or striped socks?" "Red shirt or blue shirt?" "Apple or orange?" "Milk in a sippy or a cup?" "Eat at the table or on the couch?*" "Watch Nemo or Trains*?" "Read a book or play with baby?" "Color or ride bike?" "Giraffe pajamas or frog pajamas?" "Sleep with or without bear?"  Choices are how we survive, because if there are no choices, and I pick the wrong one...ALMOST-TWO IS NOT HAPPY. Almost-two will scream! Almost-two will cry! Almost-two will forget about it two minutes later, but Almost-two is tooooouchy. Choices also give me an out when no choices are possible: "Sorry, bear, you got to pick the apple, remember? Now it's mama's turn to pick broccoli! But do you want it on the green plate or blue plate?"  Since Almost-two is a control freak, it works and keeps both mama and Almost-two sane.

*Yes, I'm a terrible mother setting up terrible habits. Sigh. 

A few weeks ago, you came home from school and told me a story for the first time. "Cici owie. Cici owie leg. Cici sad. [while doing the sign for sad] Cici happy!!! [while doing the sign for happy]." You talked about Cici all day. You told everyone about Cici. I knew Cici was a teacher at school who had broken her leg a while ago, but wasn't sure what prompted the resurgence of interest, or what was making Cici so sad or so happy. The next week I asked what had happened, and the teacher showed me a picture they'd hung up of Cici with her cast. The children were all interested in the picture and the cast on her leg, so the teachers explained that Cici had hurt her leg and was sad because she had an owie, but now she was happy because she felt better - ah! It all made sense. You still will occasionally talk about Cici and her owie, so clearly quite an impression was made.

You sing. ALL the time. I don't usually know what you're singing, but it sounds like, "Shooba shoo, shooba shoo!" Sometimes you sing the ABCs....literally, the ABCs, because you don't go beyond C.  You also sing "Go go go on adventure!" from The Cat in the Hat theme song and "Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes," along with the classics of "Patty cake," "Itsy Bitsy Spider," "Twinkle Twinke," etc.  

Almost-two is a collector. At any given time, you'll be clinging to five different things, maybe a marker, a sippy cup, a baby doll, a book, and a piece of mail. These things are of UTTER importance to you at the time and you will throw a fit should I try to remove any of them from your grasp, but give it a day and they're all discarded in favor of new things. You also will pack things - your shoes in your dad's backpack, a spoon in my purse, band-aids in a lunch box. I love finding these surprises as I go about my day. 

I'm not sure how kosher it is to admit this, but you have a favorite daycare teacher, Carissa. Karisa? Hmm. I have no idea how to spell it. You will run to her with open arms when you see her, and blow kisses and say, "Love you!" when it's time to leave. While I'm a little worried about how your transition to the next room at daycare will go when Carissa doesn't follow you, I'm so thankful that there's someone there you trust and love. And let's be honest, I think you're a favorite of hers too (possible mom blindness at work there!). 

When you were still nursing each morning, you'd come into bed with us and lay for a little bit, giving me a little extra time to sleep each morning. Once we cut the morning session, we started going out to the living room and starting the day right away. However, one morning I was particularly tired, so I gave you a pouch to eat and brought you into bed and propped my phone on the pillow and let you watch Elmo while I went back to sleep. Now, every morning, you pull me into our bedroom so you can snuggle between me and dad and watch a program. I'll take the extra fifteen minutes of laying down, thankyouvermuch. 

About two weeks ago, I took you to get your first haircut. Your little rat tail (my favorite little rat tail) just kept getting longer, and was starting to look just ridiculous if it curled the wrong way (or worse, wasn't curling). I wasn't sure how you'd do with someone touching and cutting your hair, but you did wonderfully. I took you to one of the kid's haircut places that have little vehicles to sit in during the cut, and play children's videos over the mirrors, AND give prizes at the end of the cut - you did NOT want to leave. I could barely drag you out!  And now your little mullet is gone and it makes me sad. Sniff, sniff. 

We went to two birthday parties this month, and both featured bounce houses, and damn, are you in love. You get just the biggest fit of giggles ever running around them and crashing and bouncing. One was indoors, but the outdoors one took place on a chilly day, and I could not get you back inside - no matter how cold your hands got or how frozen your nose was, you just kept bouncing. Almost-two is determined!

There's not much else to say this month. The weather has been miserable and cold, and we haven't been able to get outside, so both of us are going stir crazy being cooped up. We did hit the Children's Museum with your friends Leah and Annie, and went to the zoo with my friend and her three kids (who you thought were the best and were totally mesmerized by), and we did take advantage of one rare nice day and go on a five-mile bike ride...which, while fun, was almost a mistake, since every day since then you've asked to go on another one, and thanks to cold or rain or SNOW or all three, we haven't been able to do so. I was so proud of you, though - you kept your helmet on, wore your sunglasses, and enjoyed the ride so much! We're all looking forward to your first Taco Run. We took some sunny days and were able to color outside, and I spent one afternoon doing yard work, with you "helping." Unfortunately, your "help" ended with you falling into a rose branch I'd pruned (and repeatedly warned you away from), and now, whenever we pass the roses, you point to them and say, "Owie! Hurt!"  The rare warm spring days did allow our tulips to come up, and every time we pass them you say hi to them and tell me they are pretty and give them kisses. 

Carys, you're so very many things, but most of all, you're my girl, my daughter. You make me so happy. And tired. But happy! (Yawn.) Let's go take a nap together. I love you.

Mama

How I Do It : Eating Out with Baby

Carys and I go out to eat quite a bit - more often than we should, probably, but I get bored at home, I don't like to cook, and it's fun to do so.

She's my child for sure - sushi is her FAVE.

Some people are literally gasping at the fact that I just said eating out with my toddler is fun.  It might even be considered total sacrilege by the majority of the population. I know people who have not gone out to eat with their child ever, and their child is in pre-school.

A LOT of it - a LOT LOT LOT of it - is dependent on your kid's personality. I am incredibly lucky, and I have a very easy kid who loves being out in public and strangers and new places and new foods (KNOCK ON WOOD).  If yours does not, no amount of preparation is going to make your child suddenly love it, but these tips will at least help make it as painless as possible. If you are lucky like I am, these tips will make you want to go out to eat every single day, but since your wallet will not like that, please try to refrain. If your wallet isn't a concern, please send me money, and then go ahead and go out to eat.

I take these items - an Eating Out Kit, if you will - with me every time we go out to eat. It sounds like a lot of things and a lot of work and a lot of space, but it's not - and I've never regretted it! These things are designed to make the process of going out to eat a piece of cake not just for you, but for your waiter as well.  I have gotten countless compliments on how pain-free the meal was by the server and had countless people ask about my "supplies" and comment on what a good idea they are. I can't take credit, as I got the ideas from other moms, but it's definitely been a huge help for us.

My two goals for dining out are A) easy clean-up and B) a happy child. To achieve these, I take the following:
A bib
A placemat
A sippy
Fork/spoon
Entertainment

I usually also bring a tiny wetbag to put the dirty bib and placemat in when we're done eating (if I use the reusable placemat), but I've also forgotten that plenty of times and just thrown the rolled-up items in my bag and had no problems.

Ok, so now the details.

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1. A BIB 

My FAVORITE bibs are these:

These bibs, by iPlay/Green Sprout Baby, totally cover your child's clothes in a situation where you can't easily strip them down to eat or change their clothes afterward. And not visible in the picture is a flip-over pocket that ACTUALLY CATCHES THINGS. Other sleeved bibs have pockets (like the Bummis ones), but the pockets don't gape open and therefore are pretty worthless. These pockets sit open and actually WORK. They're fantastic.  We have two of them and need to get the next size up (bonus - they make great art/craft smocks!).  For travel, they scrunch up really small and dry fairly quickly.  When we're done eating, I'll usually dump the contents of the pocket onto the plate and wipe it down, then roll it up and stick it back in my bag or put it in the wetbag.

If a sleeved bib is overkill for your kid, I still recommend a bib with a good pocket - the goal is to keep food off both the baby but also OFF THE FLOOR so your waiter doesn't hate you completely. The Tommee Tippee soft silicone ones are really great and fold up easily and are also available at Target or Babies R Us. I also like the Baby Bjorn ones, but they're more rigid and I don't think quite as comfortable for kids, nor are they as easy to store.

2. A PLACEMAT

Pictured above are the two travel placemats we use. The blue one to the left is a reusable one by Kiddopotamus, and the ones to the right are disposable ones by Neat Solutions (but are made by a variety of different companies).  Both are also available in stores like Babies R Us and Target.  The disposables ones come in a ton of themes, from Sesame Street as pictured above to Disney Princess to Cars and more.  If I'm being totally honest, I prefer the disposable ones. There goes my hippie cred, UGH. They're just easier. They're smaller and you toss them right there at the restaurant and don't require any extra work, whereas the reusable one has to be wiped off and dumped out and takes up more room (though it rolls up pretty compactly). You can choose which works best for you based on your own level of comfort with destroying the environment.  Either way, though, they make clean-up a breeze.

3. A SIPPY
4. A FORK AND SPOON

Some restaurants have plastic cups with lids and straws for kids, which are great....if they have them. MANY DO NOT. So when in doubt, bring your own. It makes it worlds easier to give your child their own drink than having them clamor to drink from yours.  When I need a spill-proof cup, we prefer the Sassy Grow-Up Cups (as she's at the age where I'm trying to get her off of spouted sippy cups totally) but whatever sippy you normally use is obviously just fine.

I've yet to see a restaurant offer child-size silverware, so if I know it's not going to be food that is easy for her to eat with her hands, I'll throw a fork in my bag as well. At almost two, she's now able to use a full-size fork, so this is only if I remember it now, but when she was younger and first using forks and spoons, it was invaluable to have ones she could manipulate. I much prefer the metal ones (like these Gerber Graduates) but whatever you use at home would be fine.

5. ENTERTAINMENT

This is going to vary from kid to kid. Our go-to entertainment are the above play packs. They contain a coloring book, crayons, and stickers and are $1 in the Target Dollar aisle (and they go on sale regularly, when I stock up and grab ten or so to keep us stocked until the next sale). I found them here at the Dollar Store online too, but it's a variety pack that might not work unless you have boys and girls. They keep her thoroughly entertained and she LOVES opening new things, so they are perfect. Again, I hate the waste, but the trade-off is worth it. Obviously, you could get a similar effect minus the "new" by just bringing a coloring book, crayons, and stickers! We've also had great luck with reusable sticker books - like this one from Melissa and Doug - or other activity books, like this build-a-face book, also from Melissa and Doug. I don't bring these entertainment items out until she starts getting fidgety or whiny - I let her explore her new environment, look around, and see what's going on first. Sometimes I never have to get them out (and sometimes restaurants have colors for the kids and you can use them and save yours for next time!).

That said, you know what will work for your kid. A movie on an iPad? Small price to pay for peace. A book? A magna-doodle? A couple toy cars? Whatever small, portable toy that will keep your child occupied is key. And of everything, probably the most important.

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More hints that don't involve bringing anything are:

- Ask for a seat with a view of the front door (constant people coming in) or the window (people walking by/cars/planes/etc). Both of those can serve as distractions for kids. 

- Ask for a plate of fruit/veggies/crackers immediately. Some places will give it to you free (seriously brilliant) and some will charge, but little snacks act as another distraction. Also, Carys gets that eating out means, duh, FOOD, but doesn't understand the wait for said food. So as soon as we're in a restaurant, she's ready to eat. This tides her over until the real food arrives.

- I rarely order her a kid's meal. First, because they're usually insanely unhealthy, but second, because it's usually a waste of money. If it's a buffet (or like Ruby Tuesday with a salad buffet) I'll ask the server if it's okay to just give her a plate from there, and she's still young enough that the answer has always been yes. I'll usually pair that with a side or two, and it's much cheaper than getting a full meal just for her that is both unhealthy and will mostly go to waste.

Anything else I should add? What are your go-to eating out tips?

Letters to Carrots : Month Twenty-One

March 7 to April 7, 2013

Dear Carys,

You make my heart sing every single day of your existence. You are truly my light and love, and I’m so grateful every day that I’m lucky enough to be your mom. Of course, you can try my patience most days too, but mostly the singing thing.

There is so much to love about you, and I feel like I discover something new every day. Mostly, I just love how happy and joyful and silly you are. I love your constant wide smile. I love your sleepy faces and bedhead and how, even once awake, you refuse to open your eyes for a solid five minutes each morning (I feel ya, kid). I love the way you tuck your arms in against my chest when you’re tired, sad, or cold. I love the weight of you and the feel of your soft hair against my cheek as you bury your face in my neck. I love the tight squeezes your tiny arms give me so many times a day - and I especially love when you randomly run to me and ask for a hug: "Ug, mommy! Ug!" I love how friendly you are, and I love how shy you (you're seriously like a cat: you love attention when you want it, but shy away from it if you didn't initiate). I LOVE LOVE LOVE TIMES A MILLION when you do Chicken Dance. I love your sweet little voice when you sing, and I love the way the word "mommy" sounds on your lips. Thank god, because I hear it approximately 789,000 times a day.

You are the most ridiculously silly kid. You will try anything to get a smile out of someone. You dance and wiggle and make silly faces and play peekaboo and swing and climb and hang upside down and use bowls for hats and put glasses on upside down, exploding with giggles the entire time. In your mind, you are a RIOT. And you know what, Care Bear? You really are.

You pick up new skills every day. In the last couple months, you started to regularly put together three-word sentences: "Come on, mommy." "Let's go, daddy." “Where’d it go?” And my favorite: "I love you."  You also flipped a popular toddler tradition on it’s head: while most kids your age answer “no” to everything, your default is “yes.” It’s so funny grilling you about your day: “Did you go to school today?” “Yes.” “Did you have fun?” “Yes.” “Did you color?” “Yes.” “Did you rescue all the kids when Godzilla rampaged?” “Yes!” You’ve also taken to whispering your answers to questions, which seriously hello I die. I have to get it on video before you stop doing it. It’s the sweetest darn thing EVER. You get a little smile, shift your eyes around a bit, and look up at me through your lashes while you whisper.

You still love to color, but your skills are evolving: instead of scribbling, it’s much more deliberate. You will color a certain part of the picture – obviously not in the lines, but it's clear you’re coloring that flower as opposed to just scribbling on the entire page. You draw lines and loops. And you’ve started telling me that you’re coloring something, pointing to a section of your picture and telling me it’s a doggy.

We’re working on counting and colors. You know one and two, but it’s still rote memorization; you obviously can’t actually count yet. Although, to give credit where it's due, you do know what "one" means, although you like to exploit it - if I tell you one more (insert item here) you'll reach in and take one more handful. Close enough!

You know two colors: black and yellow. You definitely know what a color is and know the names of all the colors, and can match all the green things or all the purple things, but pointing to something and asking what color it is still yields iffy results.  Your dad often wears black shirts, so every morning you point first to the Google logo on his shirt and say, “Google!” and then you point to the rest of his shirt and say, “Black!”

Blueberries are your favorite food right now. You ask for blueberries all day long. You ask for blueberries in your yogurt, blueberries in your pancakes, blueberries on your cereal. Your mouth and fingertips are perpetually stained blue. You know where they are in the freezer and love nothing better than getting them out and snacking on them.

You've completely mastered using a spoon and a fork. You've been really good with them for quite a long while, since you've been using them for a year, but you use them with the skill of someone who has been using them for at least TWO years.  You drink out of real cups with no problems (however, since for some reason you don’t get physics yet, you still will set them on non-stable surfaces like the couch, so I have to be ready to grab it from you at a moment’s notice).

Band-aids and stickers hold your attention for hours. You’ll slowly and carefully peel off each sticker (watching you bend the backing off to get the edge of the sticker to pop up blows my mind – where did you learn that??) and decorate various surfaces. Stickers are a popular restaurant distraction and I try to always have some in my purse. Combine that with water play, and you’d be set all day. I can’t wait until the summer when I can set you up outside with a big tub of water and a bunch of toys, but for now, you’ll sit in the dry bathtub and pour water into various containers for absolute ages. I am always the one to end this game; you have never ended it on your own terms. You might literally stay there all day if I let you.

You had your first school program this month, and boy, was it ever frigging adorable. Your little group of classmates sang "Row, Row, Row Your Boat" (still a favorite) and a song about a bunny hopping. You did great for the first song and half of the second, but then you spotted your dad and me and made a mad dash to us. However, there is one wonderful holdover from the show: you now hop around like a bunny. Or rather, you think you do. Really you just kind of shuffle. But you hold your hands up like a bunny and say, "Hop, hop, hop!" while you shuffle around. How are you old enough to have a school program!?!?!?!

Another sign you’re growing up? We started time-outs recently. We do a very gentle and very quick (we're talking ten second) version of it, and our main form of "discipline" is still redirection, but you immediately understood what time-outs were all about and you quickly...and adorably...and heart-breakingly....started to to say, "Sowwy, mommy. Sowwy. Hug? Kiss?" when in time-out. (That's "sorry" if you don't speak toddler.) You also try everything you can to get my attention and make me happy: smiling at me while chirping, "Mommy! Mommy, hi! Hi!" It's all I can do to keep a straight face. Right now, you probably get about one time out every other day, usually for taking something or getting into something that I asked you to leave alone (you're a master thief) or for biting or hitting (which happen most often when you're tired). Lucky for me, you're a really a well-behaved kid who doesn't need to be corrected very often, so they're rare. (I fear your hypothetical future siblings, because with a first kid this easy, surely the next ones will be hellions.) I also started really highly praising you for listening and for following instructions, and for a while every time you did anything right, you'd turn to me and say, "Hug, mommy!"  Yes, I will hug you ALL OF THE TIMES.

March holds both Nana and Uncle Jared's birthdays, so you had lots of family gatherings this month. We kind of celebrated St. Patrick's Day, in that I dressed you up in a cute green shirt and dropped you off at Aunt Jenna's and Uncle Chris's while I went to work. I'm telling you, we lead exciting lives around here.

This month also marked your second Easter, but first one that you really appreciated. Your uncle and his girlfriend, your aunt Kimber, and your Nana and Grandpa all came over to dye Easter eggs. You painted them with poster paints, then dipped them in dye. You weren't quite sure why I wouldn't let you splash the dye everywhere, but you did enjoy painting every bit of the newspaper covering the table. We did two Easter egg hunts: one through your school and one with our family. You held up each found egg proudly, and deposited them in your basket like a pro. For the first five eggs. Then you were over it. Of course, your favorite part: opening the eggs. You somehow got a hold of one on our drive home and ate a bunch of Lemonheads - I didn't know whether to be mad or impressed!

Of course, no letter is complete without referencing the zoo and Children's Museum, which we did again. We are SO getting our money's worth out of those memberships! The last time we went to the zoo, you saw someone with an ice cream cone, and a few minutes later kept saying, "Ickeem!" over and over. Dunce that I am, I didn't realize what you were saying for several minutes (even though you've been saying "ice cream" for several months now), but when I finally realized it and asked, "You want ice cream?" your eyes just LIT UP and you nodded "yes" so enthusiastically I thought your head might fall off. You are a true girl after my own heart when it comes to ice cream. You had a bowl full of ice cream in one hand, and a cone in the other, and told me, "No!" when I asked if you would share. (Spoiler: you did end up sharing, albeit reluctantly.)

We make a good team, you and me, kiddo. You drink the milk (my least favorite part) out of my cereal bowl when I’m done. You share your popsicles with me. You help me vacuum and remind me to brush my teeth. I’m never bored during a car ride thanks to your constant narrative.

I have never been so happy to have undertaken a giant life change. Your dad thinks you are the greatest thing ever. Not just since sliced bread, but ever. I tend to agree with him.

Love you lots, baby.

Love, Mama

Letters to Carrots : Month Twenty

February 7 to March 7, 2013

Dear Carys,

Happy twenty months of life, kiddo! In just a short time, we'll be celebrating your second birthday, though that seems hard to imagine now since it's cold and chilly and freezing and your birthday is in the middle of the summer, when it's warm. Warm and lovely. (Sick of winter, I am.)

In the last six months, you have seemed SO much more like a two-year-old than a one-year-old, and it is only increasing. Which, duh, you're closer to being two than one, so: yes, obviously. But it's still startling and unexpected, and particularly disconcerting when you say something or complete a task that seems like it SHOULD be beyond your years - yet, there you are doing it. I see these signs of you growing up every day, and I am frantically trying to keep up with you. But that, my daughter, is like trying to capture...um...well, trying to capture something that is not easy to capture. Please excuse me, I am the mother of an almost-two-year-old who thinks she's ten and my facilities are not all there (however, I can recite "Baby Bear, Baby Bear" and a number of other books by heart, so -- wash?). We try on pajamas that just a month or two ago were swimming on you, and suddenly they fit perfectly. You can reach counters and knobs and drawers that used to safely hide our drugs breakables. And, of course, as an almost-two-year-old, you have an opinion on EVERYTHING.  Which coat to wear, which shoes to wear, where I should be sitting, which toys to play with, what color crayon to use.....and god forbid one of those opinions doesn't mesh with reality. MELTDOWN. In a sure-to-change-soon fortuitous turn, though, you get over your meltdowns in record time. I doubt you've cried more than two minutes at any given time over a temper tantrum.

What hasn't changed?

You are still a crazy little daredevil.

You still have a rattail.

You're still smart and funny and goofy.

And adorable, of course. You're shy, but outgoing. Independent but clingy. Puzzles are a favorite toy. You still love to pretend to go to sleep. You still make some incredible messes. Daddy is still your favorite, but you love me most. You still love dressing up.

You continue to want to color ALL THE TIME (preferably with pens or markers but will begrudgingly accept crayons) and you love to help me cook.

Bathtime is still one of your favorite activities and you absolutely adore swim class (you now swim underwater - holy cow!).  You're a crazy dance machine. I love seeing you start bopping while we're shopping or at a restaurant.  You still love to read more than anything and read to us and let us read to you.

You've always been a loving kid, if not a cuddly one. You blow kisses unprompted when we are leaving, when going to bed, to strangers at the store. You give high fives and fist bumps left and right. You ask hugs.  You say, "Love you!" But you very rarely just cuddle, save for reading books, when you'll sit in our lap and read dozens and dozens of books in a row.  I was so apprehensive about weaning you for that reason, though several people assured me that you would come around and let me snuggle you. And, as always, the seasoned moms were right. You do indeed.  Each morning, you let me cuddle you while you slowly wake up. Sometimes we watch Curious George or Sesame Street (with an occasional Yo Gabba Gabba or Shaun the Sheep diversion), but often, we just sit together. It's my favorite time of the day.

You're a bundle of contradictions sometimes. If we go grocery shopping, you're Little Miss Trader Joe's Ambassador, with a smile and a "Hi!" for everyone we meet. Also see: Little Miss Target Ambassador and Little Miss Blue Sushi Ambassador. To the point where you will go from chirping "Hi!" happily and sweetly to practically screaming "HI!!!!" if they don't notice. But sometimes, when we first enter a new situation, be it dinner with friends or a playdate or even visiting Nana's house, you'll cling to me so hard that I think you might be able to actually melt right into me if you tried (me, or whoever else happens to be holding you at the time...but usually me). Slowly, you'll warm up and start stealing glances at people, until eventually you're the outgoing, bubbly girl we all know so well. It's fine by me if you need to take a minute to acclimate - more cuddles for me!

You LOVE packages. This may speak to my only-slightly-kidding addition to online shopping. If you see a box on the porch or hear the delivery truck outside, you yell, "BOX!" and you rush to go get it. You then want to help me open it - and could only care a little bit about what is inside, as you mostly just want to help me pop the bubble wrap.

When I put pigtails or a ponytail in your hair, you want to see it in the mirror and you pet your hair excitedly - then you immediately want to show your daddy. He scoops you up and tells you you're beautiful. And then I die because my heart explodes.

You have an incredible memory. It may not be incredible - it may be a normal toddler memory - but seeing as you're the only toddler I've got, it's incredible to me.  You were sick a few weeks ago, and I took your temperature under your arm. Yesterday, you found the thermometer, pressed the button to start it, and stuck it under your arm.

When we read books or see someone who is angry or sad or happy, you'll point out the emotion and then mimic it. You love pretending to be sad most of all.

When you get an owie, you'll immediately run to me to have it kissed, and, like magic, it's all better. I've been waiting my whole life to be able to do that for my child. It's totally as awesome as I thought it would be.

You love to sing songs, especially songs with motions. We do "Twinkle, Twinkle," "Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes," "Pattycake," "Itsy Bitsy Spider," the "ABCs", "Old McDonald", and a variety of other songs over and over and over and over. And over. And over. And over.

You like things to be where they are supposed to go: books go on the bookshelf, toys go in the toy bin, and the nose on Mr. Potato Head in the nose hole. You'll put his in the wrong spot and announce, "Nose hat!" before laughing uproariously and fixing it.

We went to the zoo. Again.

We went to the Children's Museum. Again.

Neither of them ever get old.  Neither does doing ANYTHING with you.

When you want me to do something, you'll lead me around by the finger. If you want me to sit somewhere (and you often want me to sit somewhere) you'll call "Mommy!" and pat the ground where you want me to be. You'll push and pull me into the exact position you want.

If I'm carrying you outside, you tuck your arms in against my chest and bury your head in my shoulder to stay warm. You have to do this, you see, because you refuse to wear coats outside about half the time. However, the cuddles during this time are THE BEST.

When we color, you will invariably ask me to outline your hand, then have me put my hand down on the paper so you can outline mine (which equals drawing lines coming out from between my fingers). When the hand is lifted to reveal the traced handprint, you exclaim, "Ta-da!"

You nursed to bed for over a year and a half, and we stopped in February. I was worried it'd be difficult to put you to sleep without it, but you are the easiest child in the world to put to bed (KNOCK ON A LOT OF WOOD). I'll tell you it's naptime or bedtime at around 7:30, and you'll walk into your bedroom, telling anyone who is in the living room, "Night night!" and blowing kisses. A bedtime story, night diaper and some PJs later, you're ready to go. You barely tolerate me trying to rock or cuddle you and cut me off after about ten seconds, twisting away from me to get into bed. The second night of no nursing, you told me, "Night night, mommy. Bye bye." COLD! You'll allow begrudgingly allow me exactly one hug and one kiss, and that's it. You say, "I love you" and "Night night" to me as I walk out the door. And then we don't hear from you until 7:30 in the morning.  TRUST ME I know we are blessed on this front and DOUBLY TRUST ME I'm sure it's all going to go to hell at some point but I am savoring it for now. Also TRUST me that hearing your little voice say "I wuve oo!" is the cutest thing in the whole. entire. WORLD. (Even though I know you don't know what it means.)

Speaking of going to hell...so those dreaded two-year-old tantrums peek through at least once a day, but in I can always easily re-direct you. Your crying and screaming jags usually only last a minute, if that. I hear about people dealing with 45 minute tantrums and I inwardly cringe. I know that will be you at some point in the future, since every kid seems to go through that stage, but I'm grateful we haven't hit it full force yet. And still no incredible tantrums in public places...yet. (WHERE IS THAT WOOD TO KNOCK?)

Painting the paper that would later become the Valentines you handed out to your classmates.

Carys, you take after me in the talking department. You never shut up. And I love it. You talk and talk and talk. You love to read us stories, and in the car it's a non-stop babble-fest from start to finish. You're saying new "real" words every single day, LITERALLY. Words I didn't even know you knew, like "towel" or "push" or "bowl" (yet you still call water "milk"...).  I can't decide what my favorite Carys-pronunciation is, but "tank oo" for "thank you" is pretty high on the list. Oh, and "ahpee" for open.

You ate an entire package of dried seaweed as a snack the other day. Gross.

We went sledding and, predictably, you loved it. Snow plus action? OMG Baby Carys heaven. We may have tried to go down too steep of a hill together and you may have shifted on the sled and we may both have fallen off and I may have rolled on you and it may have terrified you, but luckily the situation was rectified by a quick run down the tiny hill, and you were in love with it again. Me? I'm just eternally grateful you didn't break a leg.

We went to Des Moines in early February to visit your Nana. Kimberly and your Gam-pa (I love how you say "Grandpa") went with us. We had a lot of fun visiting botanical gardens and the science center, but your favorite was when we ditched the family and went to visit my friend Sarah and her new baby Leo. While you were shy with them at first, once Leo came out, you couldn't stop touching and hugging and patting him. If we're ever lucky enough to make you a big sister, you're going to rock it.

You also celebrated Valentine's Day with your class at school (daycare). We made some cute little Valentines to pass out, and I was able to join you for the party.  You were SO excited to share your school day with me - you grinned from ear to ear the whole time.

It's so hard to end these letters, Carys, because there's always so much more to tell about you and your giant personality and I know that my memory isn't good enough to hold every detail about your childhood, and if I don't right it down, it might be lost forever. I KNOW I can't possibly remember everything, every little detail, but oh, how I want to do so. This is a magical time. You're totally innocent, yet you know so much. You're fully a toddler and almost a little girl, but you're still a baby. You're so independent, but you still rely on me for comfort. I know these days are numbered and I just want to hold onto them and live them to the fullest and only very begrudgingly ever let go.

Because, kiddo, I love you and I love almost-two.

La-la-love you. Hugs and kisses,

Mommy