she’s only two for a year.

When you try to dress her she either rolls into a kicking, screaming ball OR magically turns her body into jello (screaming jello).  Have you ever tried to put a pair of shorts on jello legs?  It’s probably easier to dress an alligator.

Her answer to everything is NO.  doesn’t matter what you ask.

She refuses to eat anything that isn’t a cracker.  or a cup of milk.  I’m still trying to figure out how she hasn’t fainted from lack of nutrition.

Buckling her into the car seat is like pinning a drunk gorilla down.  An angry drunk gorilla.

She literally just walked up to me (she’s supposed to be sleeping), handed me her diaper and said, “there’s my poop!”  and grinned.  followed it with, “ok now, better wash my butt!”

She’s only two for a year.

She sings songs at the top of her lungs.  “WE BUILT THIS CIDDY.  WE BUILT THIS CIDDY ON WOCK AND WOLLING!”

She carries plastic animals with her everywhere and whispers to them, “oh you are so coot.  you are my coot new best friend whale.”

She will look at a handful of sand for over 15 min.

She will also eat that same handful of sand.

When I’m working in my garden she comes up and asks how my planets are doing.  That makes me giggle every. single. day.

When she laughs her whole body shakes.

Every morning she exclaims, “I stay in my bed all night!!”  even if she wakes up in our bed. or even if it’s still bedtime and she’s only been laying down for 15 min.

She once wore Buzz Lightyear inflatable wings everywhere for a week.

When she sees a dog, she pants in their face.  I’m pretty sure there’s actual communication going on.

Her tummy is tan from swimming, her legs are constantly bruised from playing, her hair is a mess of tangles no matter how much leave in conditioner I use.

She’s only two for a year.  and it isn’t long enough.






I slowly folded the rainbow striped party hat in half and stuck it in Jack’s special ‘safe keeping’ box.  I later added the cake topper from his very first birthday cake.  a banner that read ‘JACK’.  for some reason this small act was the saddest moment of our baby boy turning one.  not because the party was over, the hat been used and the cake eaten.  but because I knew the next time I looked at that hat, that little boy wouldn’t be so little.  I could  sense the nostalgia I would feel.  I could forsee the grown little boy.  The momma going back through the box, the distant memory of a first birthday, a crinkled rainbow party hat-faded but still as vibrant as ever in my eyes.  maybe I will make him wear it again, when he’s grown.  just to humor me.  his chubby cheeks will probably be gone.  his translucent, soft baby skin will be darker.  mottled by years of the sun.  first shaves.  who knows what his hair will look like.  he will be tall.  probably like matt.  but his eyes will still shine.  they will still hold that eternal glee of joy that  they have for a year and a day now.  and no matter how old he is, I will see those eyes, and I will see my baby boy.

Happy Birthday Happy Jack.