Friday, September 10, 2010

Briefing: 2 years, 6 months and 23 days

It's been six and a half months since I've written any words to you here in this space. My last posted letter to you fell on your second birthday, February 18th, no coincidence.

Simply, I want to tell you a bit about yourself at the ripe age of two and a half and then some. You are exactly 2 years, 6 months and 23 days old if you include today. Neat, huh?

So, there are things that you love and things that I love about you.

You love your flip-flops! Hayden, my dear, you have a flip-flop fetish. Seriously! That's the only way I know to describe it. Your favorite pair (thanks to nanny you have many) don't actually belong together. One red, one purple, in varying sizes, is how you prefer to flop around in your "lip-lops." When I refuse to put on a pair of flip-flops that you are all but forcing on my feet, you get pissed! And whine! For the love of God, free the flop man!

You love your big girl panties! No argument from me here. You like to wear them, I like for you to wear them too!

You love chocolate milk!

You love your tricycle! Where do I begin? For so long I wanted you to get on your tricycle and ride. Now, hell, I wish I could get on the damn thing, ride it down the road and hurl it into the woods. Never, ever, ever, ever to be seen again. The problem lies in the fact that the trike won't go uphill in grass! Imagine that! One day you'll figure it out, by then I will have lost my sanity and my hearing. My patience for you with your beloved tricycle took a hike this past Tuesday. Good times!

You love your flashlight! I bought you a Tyke Light at the beginning of the year. You did not like it or want it in your crib at first, but have since come around and in a big way. Now, the flashlight is one of your must-have items when you go to bed. You love it, I only like it, probably because it ratted me out when I tried to do a pacifier switcharoo on you back in June.

Speaking love your pacifier! Better known as "assy." Uh, yeah. I have nothing more to say about assy, except it sucks ass(y)! I blame myself. I caved. You can thank me later.

You love your blanket! The fine piece of fabric you have attched to your hip started out quite large. It took only a couple of oh! shit! I! forgot! the! blanket! at! Sandy's! catastrophes before I whacked it into two pieces. One stays at home, the other at Sandy's. I am still not sure if you realize I did to this to your #1 but there it is. Besides, I figure another year or so tops and your blanket will shrivel up and disintegrate. It was, how shall I put this, a bargian buy, by nanny of course. Truthfully, I'm more than surprised it is still around and in one piece, well, two, sorry.

The love that you have for these things doesn't come close to the love that I have for you, Hayden. I love that you exist. That you resemble your daddy and I, but that you look like you. I love your curls, your choice of words. I swoon over your unique smile. You are smart, opinionated, curious...I love those qualities. I love the way you hold my finger instead of my hand. I love the little things: your bruised toe, chipped tooth, painted fingernails, dirty knees. You are you and you are mine. And I, baby doll, am yours. For always.


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