Anja, 23 months

I refuse to acknowledge that less than a month from now you will be two.  Nope, just a very tall, very smart one-year-old you will be forever.

Yet here I am, celebrating your 23 months of life.  You are:

  • Incredibly tall for your age, still.  Several times lately you’ve been mistaken for an almost-3-yr-old.  You can reach the light switches in our house, a responsibility that 23 months cannot handle.  Showers in the dark are not my favorite thing.
  • Very interested in babying your puppy (actually, MY puppy) Sherman.  He has his own special blanket that we dare not leave out of the crib at naptime, or you cry on his behalf.
  • Impetuous.  Not always, because you still have your sweet moments, but often you act rashly, boldly, and headstrongly.  Your daddy was like this, and sometimes I wonder (aloud to him) what I have done to deserve his payback.  J
  • Identifying more numbers and letters.  A and B still remain your favorites, as well as the number 5.
  • Constantly drawing.  You get out your crayons multiple times every day, and have nearly depleted our scratch paper supply (note to self: bring some home from my recycling bin at work).  Your drawings have a very distinct quality to them—I could pick them out easily among other toddler drawings.  You favor your red crayon, black being a distant second. You still taste your crayons occasionally, evidenced by color stuck to your teeth (doh!).  And when you use your coloring books, everyone gets a black or brown face.  Why, I do not know.  When you get bored making your own drawings, you bring your paper or book to Mommy or Daddy and implore, “Draw circle?  Draw triangle?  Draw heart?” until we have satisfactorily filled the page with shapes.  I love your little quirks.
  • Not a very good help in the kitchen.  You like to throw things and put onions (whole ones) where they don’t belong.  I don’t expect much from 23 months, though, so don’t feel too badly.  You may never care to cook, and that’s okay, too.
  • Can sing quite a few songs to the point that one can identify what they are.  Sometimes songs bleed into each other, becoming a medley: “Farmer take a wife, farmer take a wife, hi ho, farmer take a mommy, mommy on the bus goes ‘I love you, I love you, I love you,’ all through the town, Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the weerld…” and so on.  I think it is so precious when you make up your own words, such as “The daddies on the bus go ‘shh shh shh’.”  Haha!
  • Liking to take off your own bibs.  We have a conversation many times daily about how Mommy and Daddy decide when the bibs should come off, but it has yet to do any good.  You have stained some of my favorite shirts of yours, you little booger!
  • Increasingly affectionate.  Mommy, Daddy and Baby P never tire of your kisses!
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