On Turning Two

Dearest Alexa,

I had an idea some time ago to write an "On" book for you. There are so many beautiful and precious moments that I want to capture before the sharpness of detail fades to a blurry edge. I want to capture my thoughts on wanting you, the day you were born, being your Mommy and many more, but today, I want to capture the essence of you at two.

You, my dear child, are special in so many ways. You are brazen and shy all at the same time. You never cease to amaze or surprise me. You are constant whirl of motion and many times I struggle to find the words to really describe your paradoxical nature. And then, the other day, I laughed out loud when I realized that the three words that describe you best are the three words you use most often: more, funny and roar.

More was the first word you signed and one of the first words you spoke. You were an early communicator, first with your facial expressions, with words at 9 months and now with long lengthy phrases that I can't always understand but have such significant and important meaning to you. You want and expect more out of life. More everything. Everything from more "nunny" (honey) with your waffles to watching "more babies" on youtube. Your expectation of more is so high that you get frustrated with me when I can't intervene the heavens and earth to get you more of whatever it is you want. You have a recent obsession with "eeg ucks" (big trucks). The other day you noticed the garbage truck driving through our neighborhood for the first time. As he drove behind trees you looked at me and said "more big trucks?" Asking if I could make the truck reappear for you so you could watch it some more. When I told you the big truck was driving away you said "big truck bye bye? No. More big truck. Momma! More big truck!" Then, you reverted to signing more to me to drive home the importance. I love your high expectations of life and your desire for everything to be more. I never know what to say in those moments, because as you delicately tilt your head to the side with the greatest of seriousness, gently arch your brows and say "Mommy...more (fill in the blank)?" with that sweet, high voice that ends in a perfect lilt indicating a question you take my breath away. I want you to always expect more of the world and see in it a never ending string of possibility.



While "more" captivates your more serious side, you also have a good deal of funny in you. I can't count how many times a day you say "Mommy, you're funny....no, I'M funny...hahahahaha" You have many laughs but my favorite is your new Dr. Evil laugh. I don't know who you learned it from but if you decide to have a future as an evil-doer trying to take over the world, baby you've got the laugh down. Mommy bias aside, you are a pretty funny kid. You love jokes. Most of your punch lines end with "cookies" or "candy" then "I funny" then, no wait, really, I want some cookies or candy. Just yesterday you actually manipulated me into buying you a treat. I asked you if you wanted to go buy some shoes as you are yet again, outgrowing another pair. As we drove away you leaned forward in your car seat, tilted your head to the side in perfect form and asked, "Mommy, you want some coffee?" You have caught on quickly to my Starbucks/coffee addiction and ask several times a day if I would like some coffee so I didn't think anything of it. I was somewhat ambiguous the first time you asked so you waited about 10 minutes and asked me again, once again leaning forward. "Mommy, you want some coffee?" This time, I said, "yeah, Mommy will probably grab a coffee before we get to the store." You dropped back in your seat and said, with what I can only describe as a tinge of smugness and said "o.k., I want a cookie." You might as well have said "o.k. then, if you're getting a coffee then I'm getting a cookie. No need to end this sentence in a lilt. I'm not asking."

You are cunning. You are a Leo. You may only weigh 24 lbs, but girl, you have a mighty lion inside you just waiting to burst out. Roaring, to you, is the exclamation point to a good sentence. "Mommy, I want to wee (general word used to encompass a wide range of death defying stunts) raaaarrrrr!" Roaring also feels very natural to you as a greeting. Instead of saying hello or goodbye you are known to roar at people. For awhile you had a fear of the unknown and while it felt maddening as you screamed and sobbed at everything from flies to the garden hose, I'm now sad to see the fear ebbing away. We noticed a few months ago that you loved watching extreme sports, break dancing and gymnastics on youtube. What we didn't know is that you were learning just by watching. One day, months later, you busted into a combo breakdancing and gymnastics routine to Sweet Home Alabama by Kid Rock. Since then, you have also started launching yourself off of ottomans and stairs as though you are jumping your invisible dirt bike off a well sculpted ramp. And of course, you roar as you finish your stunt and throw your hands in the air with perfect 10 Olympian style.

Though those three words say so much about you and your ever abundant spirit, I could use a million more just gabbing about you. You are Mommy and Daddy's heart and soul. We love you more than you'll ever know.