Tag Archives: childhood memories. what is your 2 year old doing

Halfway through two.

Dear Peach,

I can’t believe you are already halfway through your second year.  It’s been quite a year. And for someone who has only been on this planet for 2.5 years, you certainly have rocked my world something fierce.  My life is so much sweeter with you in it.

I apologize right now for losing and not keeping up your baby book. And I’m still upset that I can’t find the envelope that holds your first haircut hair, but I will give you a little snapshot into your life that hopefully one day you’ll look back on and smile.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

You love to read about Thomas the Tank Engine’s stories.  And you like to tickle pictures of him. Because I guess the underbellies of steam engines are rather ticklish.

I love that when you meet someone new, you are quiet at first, taking a read of the situation and then just turn on the charm. You are a good sharer.

With a bit of prodding, you do clean up your toys.  Although you do enjoy your tricycle, you prefer to push it than actually use the pedals.

You ask me WHY a lot.  When I ask you WHY you say, “because I need it/did it.” The student becomes the master.

Last night when I scooped you up, you grabbed my cheek and gave me butterfly kisses.  You enjoy roasted brussel sprouts.

You have a very pronounced sweet tooth.

You love to run on your tippy toes. You have been known to greet the cat some mornings with a hiss. Although you still love her madly.

You love love love puzzles. You said the 25 piece ones were too easy. I need to get you tougher puzzles.

Child, you can be So. Damn. Stubborn.   Sometimes.

You are determined to stay in a crib for the rest of the year. You told us you do not want to meet Santa Claus.

You love to sing and dance and play your little piano.  You are on tune 85 percent of the time.

If they were giving out Olympic medals for playing Ring Around the Rosy, you would have certainly won the gold.  Your favorite color is decidedly orange.

You grow. You grow. You grow.

You call all of your stuffed animals/dolls your friends as in, “Hey, what’s my friend doing under my crib?”

And this you must know–you are loved. Loved to the moon and back, my sweetheart girl.

I can’t wait to see what you do next!

Love, Mama.