House of Estrogen

Letter to Elise, age 10

Dear Elise,

I was reading back through some of my past letters to you and noticed a common thread. Many of them start off with an apology for the letter being late. September must be a busy time. Once again, I'm late with this letter (by a full two months this time), but I figure by the time you reach 10, you dont change much between 10 and 10.16. Right?

Double digits seem like a big deal, so the celebrations were big this year. We were at the beach with the M family on your actual birthday, so we had a nice dinner at Channel Marker in Atlantic Beach. You received exactly what you had asked for - the American Girl doll, Marie Grace. You are still very much a doll girl at heart. As many of your friends have moved on to make-up, iPods, and cell phones, your wishes remain with dolls. You are growing up but not too fast, and I think that's wonderful. Enjoy your dolls. You have the rest of your life to play grown-up.

After dinner, we came back to a beachy birthday cake. Leave it to a beach grocery store to pull out all the stops with a tropical cake. It was nothing if not bright and festive.

Birthday extravaganza number two was a hotel slumber party with friends which was a perfect way to ring in the double digits.

School still has its ups and downs, but I think you're in a good spot. Retaining you last year was definitely the right decision. Writing is your toughest subject. You're excelling in math though, so maybe you are taking after your computer geek parents.

Your big news this year is that you tried out for and made the performance jump rope team. We are so proud of you! You have worked incredibly hard and are so thrilled that you made it. I loved seeing your face when the coach told you you had made the team. You were just beaming with pride. You have been practicing constantly to learn all the new performance routines. I think the whole experience is really good for you - the confidence builder in making the team, the feeling of accomplishment every time you check off a new trick, and the fun and comaraderie of being on a team. I couldn't be happier, and neither could you. You've done one parade so far and have several performances scheduled in the next few weeks. It is definitely making our already busy lives busier, but I think it is all worth it.

Your girl scout troop is still a big part of your life. You are working with a patrol on your bronze award this year. Your team is creating a care cart for a cancer center. It is a big project, but you guys are working hard to earn the bronze award by the end of the school year.

When you're not busy with school, scouting, or jumping rope, you love to play with friends in the neighborhood, knit, and read.  You and Nina still have the love/hate crazy sister relationship. Day to day, we never know which it is going to be. You are a sweet second mother to Addison who has been an especially difficult 3.5 year old lately. You're going to make a great mom one day.

Keep on jumping and working hard in school.

I love you,

Mama

Letter to Addison, Age 3.5

Dear Addison,

I’m a little late in writing your 3.5 year letter, but one is certainly needed as you have taken three and a half by storm. You are like a little whirlwind of energy, cuteness, determination, and spunk. You are caught in the battle between a fierce desire for independence and a need to be babied, and the winner of that battle is always on your terms. One minute you are taking off the shoes I just put on your feet because you wanted to put them on yourself. In the next breath, you are asking to be carried down the stairs. I’ll ask you to put away your towel, and you’ll politely say “Yes, M’am” while scampering away to hang it up. A minute later, you’ll  yell, “No! Mommy do it!” when I ask you to put away a puzzle. You are definitely a stubborn soul like your sister Nina.

 

Although you seem to be growing taller every day, you still have a cute, sweet baby nature to you. I hope you change classrooms at preschool before you start pronouncing your teacher Julianne’s name correctly. I just smile ear to ear when I hear you say, “Miss Joo-wee-ann” each day. It will break my heart the first time you pronounce that ‘l’.

 

The older you get, the more you play and interact with your sisters.

 

You and Nina especially have a lot of fun together. I’m never sure what I’m going to wake up to in the mornings. Sometimes you race in my room showing off your green fingernails or blue toenails courtesy of Nina. Other days, I’ll hear your distinctive, “I not your best friend!!” yelled down the hallway after your two stubborn personalities clash.

 

Elise mothers you a lot, reading you stories, helping you brush your teeth, or getting you dressed in the mornings.

 

You love to ride your balance bike, go on family bike rides, do puzzles, and look at books. Your favorite book right now is “If You Give a Cat a Cupcake.” There is a part where the cat dons a swimsuit, and you howl with laughter every time we get to that page.  You’ll race away with the book to show whoever is around “some-fing funny.”

 

You are a little sponge, soaking up the world around you which means you ask questions non-stop. Reading a book to you takes at least three times longer than it should because every turn of a page results in, “Mommy, I have a "kestion". What that girl’s name? Why that boy wearing a red shirt? Why that girl riding a bicycle? What that man's name? Why that boy not with his mommy?” It definitely takes a high degree of patience to get all the way through a book with you. I spend more time answering “kestions” than reading words on the page.

 

I'm pretty sure we could set our clocks by your biorhythms. You wake up promptly at 7:00 every morning, yelling, "Mommy! Can I get out of bed?"  You are the alarm clock in the house. At 6:30 every evening, one of two things happens. Either (a) you come to us, rubbing your eyes, saying, "I wanna go to bed."  or (b) you get completely wired and out of control because we didn't get you in bed promptly at 6:30.  It is like Cinderella at the stroke of midnight, but you are Addison at 6:30. We have to have you home and in bed or the chaos begins. 

 

As hard-headed and difficult as you can be with your tantrums and demands, at the end of the day, you are still my sweet little baby. Your "running hugs" and your snuggles with a sleepy head on my shoulder are my favorite parts of the day. I know I won't have those much longer, so it makes each one all the more precious.

Happy "free and a half" Addie!  I love you!

Love,

Mama

Letter to Nina, 7 years

Dear Nina,

Happy (belated) seventh birthday! It seems with every birthday, you come out of your shell more and more. Gone are the days that you would stand on the sidelines of any activity for what seemed like an eternity before getting brave enough to join. I think elementary school has pulled some of that shyness and hesitation out of you. You seem so much more self-assured and outgoing now. I've loved watching the transformation.

 

I think I comment about your fashion sense in nearly every letter to you which may seem shallow or unimportant, but it is just such a part of who you are. You never leave the house without first accessorizing yourself from head to toe with necklaces, bracelets, hair clips, pins, scarves, belts, boleros, and boots. It is such a treat to see your choices each day.  I've gotten much more relaxed about letting you out of the house the way YOU want to be dressed. It is such a fundamental way that you express yourself. Your fingernails and toenails are always painted in shades of purple, blue, green, or hot pink. For your birthday, you only asked for three things: "diamonds, rubies, and pearls."  At least you have good taste in jewels!

 

You are currently trying to grow out your bangs. I'm so tired of seeing your hair in your face, but you are quite adamant about "long hair and no bangs." When you get your mind set on something, there is no changing it. You are stubborn, persistent, and unwavering in your decisions.  You'll be a strong woman one day.

 

Despite your initial enthusiasm with jump rope, in the last month or two, you have not been excited about the single rope part of class. You went so far as to fake an injury one week to get out of single rope. You whined, moaned, and complained about your ankle while sitting on the sidelines for the first thirty minutes of class. I was 90% sure you were either faking it or blowing a minor injury out of proportion, but nothing the coach or I would say could get you out there. I finally asked, "Are you going to jump when double dutch starts?" You said yes, and the minute the class switched over to double dutch, you were miraculously healed and jumped right in.  We decided together that it was time for a break from jump rope. You still jump quite a bit at home though, so I hope that one day you'll go back to lessons.

Your current favorite activity is playing Super Mario Galaxy 2 on the Wii with your dad. It certainly isn't the most educational, athletic, or creative endeavor you could have chosen, but the two of you have so much fun together. I think it is good for the middle child in you to have that special bonding time with your dad. It is hard competing to be "Daddy's little girl" with two other little girls in the family.

Your relationship with Elise is the same as always - best friends one minute, pushing buttons and fighting the next. Day to day, we never know what to expect from the two of you. You definitely seem to live at the extremes. I see glimpses of the kind of best friends you could be as adults though, so I have my fingers crossed for the future. With Addison, you have more of the good times, but the sibling rivalry with her is definitely beginning to rear its ugly head. I guess now that she is three, you have decided she is fair game for tormenting.

  

Nina, you have an infectious smile and laugh. You are growing up fast, but I am enjoying the ride. Keep being you!

 

Love,

Mama

 

Letter to Addison, Age 3

Dear Addison,

I am a month late with your birthday letter this time. Sadly, with a birthday the week before Christmas, the most hectic time of year, I'm sure this will not be the last time this letter is late. The chaos of the holidays are not my only excuse though. I've been thinking about this letter since then, thinking about all the things I want to tell you. I'm having a hard time accepting that you are three. You are no longer a baby, no longer a toddler. You are all big girl, and you remind us daily with your very adamant, "I BIG GIRL! I in PRESCHOOL!" I'm just not quite ready for you to leave the baby and toddler phase behind, and that translated into my putting off writing this letter. You are three though, whether I like it or not, and I really am enjoying three. I just need to find a way to put a little closure around the baby/toddler time.

 

One day recently, your dad said to me, "Were the other two this cute at this age?"  Neither of us could remember. I'm quite sure they probably were, but it makes me sad that I don't remember. You guys are growing up too fast, and it is hard to remember all the little things. This letter will be about remembering... all the things I don't want to forget about your being three.

 

You say so many things that make us smile. Every time you say a word that ends with "ing", you make a funny little clicking sound with your tongue. You are completely unconscious of it, so I guess you just think it is part of the word. "Mommy, what you reading <click>?" "Daddy! Look! I sledding <click>!"  It cracks us up, but I know some day you will probably lose the click. I don't want to forget it.  I love the way you count too... "1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 11, 8, 9, 10, 11, 8, 9, 10, 11..."  The eleven serves as both a seven and an eleven, so you never get past it. We probably should correct you more often than we do, but it is just so endearing. I know you'll count correctly eventually. I'm in no rush for it to be perfect.

 

Then there are all the words you can't quite get right yet. We will forever call Goofy, "Doofy" after our recent Disney trip for your birthday, and Elise's poor American Girl Doll Ruthie is "Roofy". The word "your" is always "ors". You use that one so much that your dad and I have started using it as well. "Mommy, I play ors iPod?" "Daddy, you put on ors shoes." Once again, we should probably correct you, but we just love the sweetness of it. I don't think you'll drive off to college in "ors" car. You'll figure it out before then.

 

You are still in a very independent phase wanting to control as many things in life as you are able. When we go up the stairs, you tell me to wait at the bottom. Then, when you get to the top, you yell, "ONE, TWO, FREE, COME UP!" to grant me permission to continue up. Jackets, pants, socks, and shoes are all put on by you alone. You set your place at the table, get your own water, and serve your own food at meal times. You insist on opening and closing all doors which usually results in a big bottleneck in the doorway every morning as we all try to get past you with backpacks, laptops, and jackets.

You like to test how far you can push the control thing. Invariably, if you've asked me to help you with something, as soon as I start, you will say, "No! Daddy do it!" If you tell your dad that you want Cheerios for breakfast, as soon as he pulls the box out, you will yell, "No! I don't want that! I want Kix!" We don't let you rule the roost, but we do try to let you take that control in simple situations like going up the stairs one at a time. You get such satisfaction knowing that you were in command. You definitely like to consider yourself in charge 24/7 though.

 
You are a third child in every way. At age three, your sisters loved listening to the Wiggles, Laurie Berkner, or Roger Day. You, on the other hand, are a huge Beyoncé and Black Eyed Peas fan. Every time we get in the car, you request, "Mommy, I want Single Ladies. I single lady Addison." Then when I play your beloved Beyoncé , you yell, "Turn it up!", and you sing right along. You started preschool this month, and one morning, you packed up a tiny backpack with all your favorite books, blankets, and cars. Then, you put it on, walked up to Nina and said, "Look Nina! I got a pack-pack just like you guys!"

You are much more adventurous than your older sisters ever were, and that can be scary. Twice recently, we have caught you walking around the inside edge of the railing that goes around the top of the staircase. Both times, we didn't find you until you had walked all the way around and were probably 14 feet off the ground. None of the baby books tell you to babyproof the one inch wide ledge that goes around the stairwell. Who knew? Clearly, you have no fear of heights!

 

This month, you started both preschool and soccer. You are completely in your element with both. You love every aspect of preschool - the painting easels, the computer, the dramatic play area, the preschool playground. The transition was so simple for you, and I think you were really ready for a more challenging world around you. You are rarely ready to leave when I arrive in the afternoon to pick you up. We all miss seeing your old teachers, Mike and Mimi, each day. Mike still babysits for us a lot though, and you run by Mimi's room every morning to give her a hug.

You are having a blast playing soccer. Your sisters never played soccer this young, and I hadn't realized how cute three year olds look playing soccer! You love it.

You still have a fiery temper and can throw a wicked tantrum, but for the most part, we're finding three to be a fun age. We don't always have the patience to let you do everything by yourself, and we don't always give in to your controlling demands. This sets you off, of course, screaming until you are red in the face, but we get through it.

 

You are my sweet little muffin (or as you would correct me, "NO! I BIG muffin!"). Happy third birthday! I love you.

Love,

Mama

 

Letter to Elise, age 9

Dear Elise,

Today you turned nine. We celebrated tonight with turtle cupcakes. You are a bit of a turtle fanatic. Ever since doing a school report on turtles a year or two ago, you have loved turtles. You claim to be obsessed with them. Imagine my surprise when I made a late-night last-minute trip to the grocery store last night for a birthday dessert and found turtle cupcakes! What were the odds of that? I'm just picturing the baker making cupcakes that day thinking, "OK... I'll make some plain bright colored cupcakes, and some Disney character ones, and some with flowers on top... oh! And turtles! Yes... the ever popular turtle-topped cupcakes!" 

Anyway, to say that you were thrilled with the turtle cupcakes is an understatement. It was like turtle heaven for you.

I think nine is going to be a good year for you. I just have a good feeling about it. You are repeating third grade this year and doing it with more maturity and class than I could have ever imagined.  You know it was the right decision for you, and you stand up to anyone who makes comments about it. You are gaining confidence in yourself, and that is a priceless reward for what was a tough parenting decision.

 

You recently moved out of your shared room with Nina into the guest room. You were in need of a quiet space that was all your own.  Initially, we weren't sure whether the move would be temporary or permanent. It has been such a positive for you though that we are going to convert the room into being yours long-term. The ability to truly get away from the chaos of two little sisters is really important to you. You hide away in your room and read... and read... and read. You have become a voracious reader lately. We can barely keep you stocked in books. You fly through your stash every time we go to the library. You take a book with you everywhere. You have been reading a lot of classics like Black Beauty, Anne of Green Gables, and The Story of Dr. Doolittle. You love them all. I hope this is the beginning of a lifelong love affair with books.

You have decided to take a break from tumbling. I think that is a good decision. You seem to have plateaued in skill level, so it is a good time to try something new. You have talked about piano, but I'm not sure what you'll end up trying next. You are still very active in your Girl Scout troop and are looking forward to a troop camping trip next month.

Overall, I just feel like you're in a good place right now, like your world is coming together. You are past the illnesses of last year. You are doing better in school and feeling more confident as a result. You appreciate the privacy of your own room, but you help out around the house a lot too. I think nine is your year!

I love you.

Love, Mama

Letter to Nina, 6.5 Years

Dear Nina,

I am a little late in writing this letter, but you are so easy going that I don't think you'll mind. Your disposition lets the little stuff just roll right off your back.

You started first grade last month, and you are loving it! Your enthusiasm about school is such a breath of fresh air. If only we could all be so cheerful about the day-to-day grind. Apparently, you are quite the flirt. I've had mothers or grandmothers of at least three boys come up to me to tell me how their sons are completely enamoured with you and plan to marry you. I'm not sure what your seduction tactics are, but they appear to be working. We are seriously scared of your teenage years!

Earlier this week, I saw two sandwiches in the refrigerator. I asked about them and was told that you had made them on Saturday morning for your and Elise's lunch boxes, not realizing it was a Saturday.  You definitely have a get-up-and-go philosophy in the mornings!

Your biggest focus right now is jump roping. It has been so fun to watch you find your passion. You have tried swimming, gymnastics, soccer, and dance, but none of those stuck. Jump rope has reeled you in like nothing else! You practice in all your spare time regardless of the temperature outside.

  

You have checked off 12 of 13 skills required to move up to the next level. Tonight in class, you had a look of determination like I've never seen before trying to master that last skill. With a beet red face and sweat dripping down your neck, you tried it again and again and again. I was so proud of your persistence. By the end of class, you hadn't gotten it yet, but I predict you'll be out in the garage every day this week working on it. By next week, you'll be marking off that last skill.

Double dutch is your favorite activity, but you love learning new tricks for single rope too. This week, you've been working on double-unders, full turns, and speed jumping. The smile on your face when you master a new trick makes my heart do a little jump roping of its own!

You've had some horrendous ear infections in the last few months. It is worrisome that despite the tubes, you are still getting ear infections. We keep hoping you'll outgrow them, but at this point, it isn't looking too promising. Fortunately, you're a good sport about wearing the doctor-mandated ear plugs and a swim cap in the pool.

 

A good family friend said to me recently, "Nina seems like she just has the world all figured out." I love the way she put that. I think it describes you perfectly. At six and a half, you have developed such a personality and confidence. You certainly have your moments of meltdowns, back-talking, and fighting with Elise, but for the most part, I think you have made a spot for yourself in the world and are quite comfortable there.

Thanks for being you, Nina!

I love you,

Mama

 

Letter to Addison, Age 2.5

Dear Addison,

Two and a half... Wow. Time flies. No, time does more than fly. It is like a runaway train. I'd love to stop time for moments here and there, but there is no slowing it. It just keeps barreling along.

 

You are so very two. Two is the cutest, most wonderful, magical time one minute and the most frustrating, aggravating grey-hair-inducing time the next.

There are days I want to slow time and keep you at two forever. There are so many things I love about you at two. I love the way you say "Oh Tay" rather than "O.K."  I love that when you want to say "I don't know.", you say, "I know?" in a questioning tone that somehow clearly indicates that you mean the opposite. I love how in the mornings when I ask you "one piggy or two piggies" about how to fix your hair, instead of answering "one piggy", you say, "no two piggy." I love the way you do a roll call of where everyone in the family is... "Daddy Snowshoe. Addie no shoe. Sissy no shoe.  Nina no shoe. Mommy no shoe. Daddy Snowshoe." I love the way you play music on a little toy and then exclaim, "Ice ceam shruck!!" I love hearing your little feet pitter pattering around the house as you chase your sisters. I love the way you call Dora the Explorer "Duh duh duh Dora", as in "MY duh duh duh Dora PJ's"  I love the thrilled look on your face when you jump to me in the pool wearing your little floatie, and then you swim to the ladder and climb out to "Do 'gin!" I love the way you'll walk from person to person with a crayon and piece of paper asking, "Draw mile fess" until someone realizes you're asking for a smiley face and draws it for you. I love your hugs and kisses. There are so many things I love about the two year old you.

Then there are those things that have me cursing time wishing it would speed up. "MY DO IT!!!" is the number one. I know you are expressing your independence. I know it is your way of separating from me and learning to do things on your own. I know all that. Really, I do, but do you really have to do EVERYTHING independently? Could you let me put your shoes on the right feet just once? One time? That's all I ask.. that I don't have to drop you off at daycare every day sheepishly saying, "Sorry... her shoes are on the wrong feet again. She won't let me switch them."  If I dare to put a shoe on your foot, you immediately take it off and put it back on with your very adamant, "MY DO IT!" I'm pretty sure I've never picked out the right bowl, cup, or fork for you. Even if I did pick out the one you wanted, you would throw it across the room and choose another one just to spite me.

"Independence" I remind myself, "Independence... it is a good thing."  Independence gets me off the hook for making lunch in the morning when Nina makes her own.  It has to be a good thing eventually, but right now, your battle for independence is a neverending source of frustration for both of us. I'll attempt the tried and true, "Offer a toddler two choices so that they feel like they are in control of the decision" method in the morning, giving you two outfits from which to choose. Invariably, you walk over to the hamper and pull out an outfit or simply yell, "BUNNY DRESS!!!"  Sigh. Why doesn't the two choices thing work on you?  As a third kid, are you already savvy enough to realize that you really aren't being given a choice when mom has already narrowed the choices to two?  Darn older sisters!

The great thing about two though is that for every time I bang my head against the wall over "MY DO IT!" or "NO MOMMY!!! DADDY DO IT!", you turn around and crank up the cuteness to make up for it. At the end of every day, seeing you peacefully snoozing in your bed always reminds me that time is going by way too fast. Two really is a wonderful, magical age, and I need to just enjoy the ride.

 

It is hard to believe this is my last letter to you as a toddler. In six months, you'll be turning three and starting preschool. I know I'll miss the sweet, wonderful, spunky "terrible twos" when it is all over. You are my little love. Thanks for being you, and thanks for the fun of two!

Love,

Mama

Letter to Elise, 8.5 Years

Dear Elise,

I am a couple weeks late with your 8.5 year letter, but tonight marks one year since your awful bout with ITP, so I figure this is an anniversary of sorts anyway. Knock on wood, your platelet counts have remained pretty stable since August. We are still overly cautious about any bruises you get, but much to your relief, we have stopped the weekly finger pricks.

You are on my mind a lot these days. Life just seems hard for you, and that weighs heavily on me. School continues to be a challenge. Boys are starting to notice you, but it is hard for you to understand that their teasing is just their way of getting your attention. You are such a sweet, sensitive girl, and I think it is tough being thin-skinned when you are eight.  The beginnings of teasing and flirting with boys is frustrating and upsetting at times. Girls are starting to play their little catty girl games, and you get your feelings hurt easily. Part of me wants you to toughen up a bit, but part of me doesn't want you to lose that wonderful innocent sensitive soul. Hopefully you can get to a happy medium at some point.

 

Although school is not much fun for you right now, you are definitely enjoying some of your activities outside of school. You participated in the science fair this year for the first time, working hard with two close friends on your erosion project.

 

You attended the Father Daughter Dance again this year which is such a magical night for you. You have been a daddy's girl since you were tiny, and you get such a twinkle in your eye when you talk about the dance.

 

Girl Scouts keeps you busy. You sold 272 boxes of cookies this year which was quite an accomplishment considering you had competition from Nina for the same base of customers. Your troop is still going strong, and you have two fun overnight events coming up this spring - a bridging event at Girl Scout camp to bridge up to Junior Scouts, and an overnight at the Great Wolf Lodge paid for by troop cookie money. The past two weekends, you have gone to a horse outing (where you learned you are allergic to horses! Oops!) and a sun/water safety outing.

 

You have been enjoying gymnastics but due to difficulty in getting homework completed, you will be switching back to tumbling as your after school activity. We're hoping that will make life a little easier.

You were thrilled this winter to be the narrator for the first time at drama camp. You were beaming up there on stage.

You love to spend time with friends, color with chalk, watch iCarly, spend your allowance on Ice Breakers, peruse the American Girl catalog, read, play hide and seek, and arrange your stuffed animals on your bed.

 

I wish school and homework weren't such a big stressors for you. Your worries, fears, and insecurities become mine, but we're working through them together.

It is hard to believe that next time I write one of these letters, you will be NINE... your last year in single digits. You have given me 8.5 wonderful years so far... thank you! I can't wait to see where life takes you next.

I love you,

Mama

Letter to Nina, 6 years

Dear Nina,

The day you have been anxiously awaiting has finally arrived. You are six today. This last year has been a big one for you - finishing preschool, starting kindergarten, and learning the ins and outs of being an elementary school kid. It is a new world, but you have taken it by storm.

You leap out of bed every morning at least a half hour or hour before anyone else in the family, but you just fend for yourself, playing on the computer, watching TV, or fixing yourself some breakfast. You're very independent, and I think you truly enjoy having the quiet house to yourself each morning. Once Elise is awake, and you can go back in the room you two share, you are usually the first one dressed. As soon as Addie starts making noise, you bound into her room and get her out of the crib by dragging her over the railing. It looks as awkward as it sounds, but Addie doesn't complain. Then you head downstairs where you start packing your own lunch. I rarely make your sandwiches any more. You have taken ownership of that job. You remarked this morning that you couldn't believe how much better than Elise you were at spreading jelly when you are so much younger. Elise is lucky if she is fully awake and dressed before the bus arrives though, so she never has time to make her own lunch. You take pride in doing it all yourself, so you have much more practice in the art of jelly spreading.

School is going well. When I volunteered in your classroom this week, I got to read some of your journal - what a treat! I loved entries like, "My bst frnds are Emily and Riley bcuz tha are nis and buteful." and "I am going on a flit to Teksis."  Kindergarten suits you. The 100th day of school was last week, and you had very definite plans on the design for your 100th day T-shirt. You are decisive... always knowing exactly what you want, down to the last detail. 

 

You played soccer this fall and seemed to have a good time. I think you may play again in the spring. You begged for over a year to take ballet. I finally signed you up for a 4 week session to see how you liked it, and that was enough for you! You had fun, but ballet definitely wasn't your thing. Some day I'm sure you'll find a sport or activity that you love, but I have no idea what that will be.

 

You have joined a Daisy Girl Scout troop this year and love finally being able to do all the Girl Scout activities you've watched your sister do for the past three years. You were so proud the first time you donned the blue Daisy vest. You had high aspirations for your first year of cookie sales with a lofty goal of 900 boxes. You were absolutely determined to win the digital camera; however, you quickly grew weary of cookie sales after about 125 boxes. Hopefully you'll be happy with the highlighter award instead.

 

Behavior and discipline continue to present the biggest challenges for your dad and me. You are a middle child to the core!

A few weeks ago, I discovered some opened foil pill packets on your bathroom counter with the chewable pills nowhere in sight. I yelled for you and Elise to come talk to me about it. Elise quickly denied having anything to do with the pills while you gave me a sheepish grin and said nothing. Your dad and I launched into a huge lecture about how dangerous it was to take medicine on your own, how you could have ended up in the hospital, how you knew you weren't supposed to take medicine without a grown-up, how if you had gotten sick, we wouldn't have known what was wrong, WHAT WERE YOU THINKING??? and on and on. You sat there and smirked as if it was all a big joke. That just got you in trouble, and we started piling on the punishments in an effort to make you realize how serious the situation was. Through all of this, you never said much. You just clammed up and took all that we doled out. Finally, your dad was determined to find out what prompted you to eat the pills. He told you that he promised you would not get in any more trouble than you were already in if you told us why you had done it. You ran to your room, climbed up in the top bunk and started looking for something. We had no idea what you were looking for, but you eventually said you were searching for a small lotion container. We couldn't imagine what that had to do with the pills you had eaten. Did you chase the pills with a bottle of lotion? When you finally found it, the small container of normally white Lubriderm was now a small container of pink and purple swirled Lubriderm. You hadn't actually eaten any of the pills. They had been your dye to decorate the lotion... quite clever, actually. We were still angry that you had played with the pills at all but clearly relieved that you hadn't ingested them. When we asked if there were any that had been dropped or left out anywhere, you exclaimed, "only in the little blue box!"  Little blue box... that would be the RAZOR SHARP pill cutter you had used to cut the pills to fit them in the lotion bottle! My five year old plays with razor blades and pills... every mother's dream.  What a night that was. Our emotions ran the gamut from being furious that you had taken pills, to scared out of our minds at how serious this could have been, to relieved that you hadn't eaten any, to impressed at your ingenuity, to scared out of our minds again about the years ahead of us. You challenge us in ways we never could have imagined.

 

When I got my new car, you were the first one to christen it as a mom-mobile. You wrote on one of the seats with lip gloss. Awesome. Thanks.

You and Elise continue to have a love-hate sister relationship. One day you'll spend the entire morning together concocting some elaborate role play with dolls, and the next day, you'll both be screaming at the top of your lungs, "I wish you weren't my sister!!" while kicking each other.

You can always find a way to make Elise cry, and that thrills you to no end. Last night, you accomplished your goal by saying, "You get what you get and you don't throw a fit" after refusing to give Elise any ice in her water. You were right there at the ice and water dispenser, but torturing your sister by depriving ice was just too satisfying. The fighting makes me insane, but it also makes me thankful for the good times.

 

Your fashion sense may send me to an early grave. I try so hard to let you express yourself with your clothing, but there are times I just have to stand my ground. Yesterday, you came out of your room in a really cute skirt outfit - a coral top with a coordinating coral, off-white, and olive green plaid skirt. It was a great set, but you had complemented it with a pair of bubble gum pink tights that clashed horribly. You were insistent about the tights, but I just couldn't let you out the door like that. I finally convinced you to wear off-white tights, but I caved on the matching tall coral fringe boots. I had won the battle of the tights, so I let you win the shoe battle. Off you went to school in your cute, preppy, plaid Gymboree outfit and your psychedelic light-up sneakers designed by some 60's hippy dropping acid. You definitely know how to make a statement.

You keep us on our toes, Nina. I love you, and I can't wait to see what comes along with age six!

Love,

Mama

Letter to Addison, Two Years

Dear Addison,

You turned two yesterday. TWO! How can you possibly be TWO?  You will be my baby forever, but two just sounds so much more grown-up than the pre-two ages that are referenced by months. Now I'll be forced to count your age in years. That's tough on a mama. The difference between 22 months and 23 months seems trivial. The difference between 23 months and TWO seems monumental.

You are a spunky, independent, strong-willed little turkey. Of course, part of that just goes with the territory of being two. You are very good at being two. The stomping feet and full blown tantrums are all a part of your basic communication skills right now.

You've learned how to make yourself heard over the roar of your older sisters though. At the dinner table, you have discovered that saying "All Done." or pushing your plate away is often met with "Just a minute" or "I'll help you in a second" or absolutely no response at all. To solve that problem, you now stand up on your chair when you are done. As much as it drives me crazy, I have to admit, it is pretty clever. You instantly have someone rushing to your side to help you down from the table with that little trick.

Your verbal skills are coming along slowly but surely. Your sentences are rarely longer than two words - "More, please.", "Sissy hug.", "Daddy, sit.", or "Poops, potty.", but your language development is inching along. On the subject of potty training, we had absolutely no intention of potty training this early. I've always been of the belief that the earlier potty training is started, the longer it takes. I think you are going to force it on us though. You are asking to sit on it regularly now, and making a deposit at least half the time. You get furious if we try to put a diaper on you without letting you sit on the potty first. I suppose we'll tackle potty training after the holidays since you seem to be training yourself with or without us!

 

You had your first haircut last weekend. Your father had been threatening for months to take you to get it cut if I didn't, so I finally gave in. I know your curls won't last, so I didn't want anyone to touch them. You won't wear hair clips though, and I couldn't in good conscience let you go around with your hair in your eyes much longer.

Before picture:

During:

 

After:

You are still a daddy's girl. His injured knee has troubled you, so you point at it several times per day, declaring "Boo boo!" I'm sure he appreciates the reminder. In an attempt to fight the boredom that comes along with a knee injury, your dad has grown a goatee. You tell him "ouch!" when he kisses you. Good girl... mama has coached you well!

You are definitely a creature of habit. Maybe you get that from your grandfather who went to Starbuck's every day so consistently at 10 a.m. that you could set your watch by him. You go to bed every night at 6:30 and wake up promptly at 7:00.  On the rare occassion when we keep you up past 6:30, it throws your entire schedule out of whack.

When you walk down the hall at daycare, you feel compelled to shut every open door, every time, every day... no matter how much of a hurry I might be in. It is like the world might cease to exist right that very moment if a door is left open. MUST SHUT DOORS... MUST SAVE THE WORLD.  Your reading selections in the evening consist of two different books and one puzzle. Every. Night. If that caterpillar book that you love so dearly were ever to accidentally land in the fire place, I can't say that I would miss it.

 
 
Most of all, you are a sweet, fun, cute, funny little person learning to navigate your way in this big crazy world. Your hugs, kisses, and giggles make me smile even on my most challenging days.

I love you. Happy second birthday!

Love,

Mama