October 4, 2007

The Terrible TWO

It is difficult to believe that I (once again) have a two-year old. She’s my baby and I can not believe how fast time has gone. Lil C has been giving us a preview of the terrible two’s for the past few weeks. The answer to just about everything is an adament "no." She has suddenly decided she will only eat yellow foods and only if she REALLY feels like it; and the kid can pull hair. Man, can she pull hair!

She also says, "Mommy, Love you too!" about twenty times a day; and she gives neck hugs resembling a rear naked choke that can completely cut off circulation to the brain. She’s the great pretender and often imagines she’s eating an ear of corn or that one of her favorite stuffed animals, George, is playing hide and seek with her. She’s learned so much over the past year (including how to count to ten in Japanese), O.k. and a couple curse words. No one’s perfect.

She’s now putting herself to sleep in her own room (I forgot to mention that we moved her out of our room a few weeks ago, finally. Yes, I have attachment issues and possibly facing this being the last baby issues, so leave me alone.) Unlike most kids who want to hear "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" or something along those lines, Lil C’s night time requests include the "pipate song" (pirate song).

The other night as I was singing "Yo ho, Yo ho, a pirate’s life for me. . . " she stopped me and said, "No Mommy, not dat pipate song. Beer song." We went to the Renaissance Faire a few weeks ago and went to the pirate show where they made the audience sing a chorus of "beer, beer, beer, beer; beer, beer, beer, beer." So, that’s her lullaby of choice now, a constant repetition of the word "beer" that puts her right to sleep. Apparently, it’s entirely possible to give birth to a little angel the first time around and sheer trouble the second time around.

Since her Daddy is once again on a business trip, we’re going to have a small dinner party tonight, complete with ice cream cake and the new wooden train set that she’s getting (because we have entirely too many princesses in this house).

If you’d like to read Lil C’s birth story, you can do so here. About 12 hours ago, two years ago, I was weathering contractions in the hallway and drooling on the floor during a particularly bad one. Don’t believe me? Go read.