This week, you turned 2 3/4. I’ve been having a hard time explaining to people how old you are because you’re so much more than two, and when you say two, people have this image of a toddler in their mind, and you are so NOT a toddler anymore. You’re also not quite three, but you’re also too old to refer to your age in months (see the post about the creepy woman I used to work with who still referred to her tweenager in months)
This weekend, your Nana and “Gwompa Wick,” as you now call him, will be heading back to Illinois. We will be very sad to see them go. They have done such an amazing job of helping us take care of you, and teaching you new things, I’m sure your IQ will drop the second they walk out the door. We’re a little bit nervous about how you’re going to take all of this, but short of slashing the tires on their vehicles, there’s not much we can do to make them stay. Don’t worry too much, though. We will see them again soon – in July at the very latest, and hopefully, they’ll be down again for an extended stay in 7 months or so.
Your independence is bubbling to the surface more and more lately. You’re a very strong willed little girl, and sometimes that gets you in trouble. OK, more than sometimes. A lot. Some days it feels like there’s a fit every couple of hours. We have figured out that a lot of the times it has to do with how hungry you are, so that helps, but not if we don’t have any food ready.
You’ve been learning knock-knock jokes from your grandparents because they needed some entertainment while they were down here. You learned a bunch of them very quickly, and now, when you’re ready to tell a knock-knock joke, you’ll knock on the table. You’re not quite the master joke-teller as you still want to tell all parts of the joke instead of letting the person you’re telling it to do part of it. It goes something like this:
You: Knock knock
Me: Who’s there?
You: Who’s there? Kanga.
Me: Kanga who?
You: Kango who? NOT Kanga who! Kanga-woo! AHAHAHAHAHA!
And then Nana taught you about knee-slappers, so you’ll throw your arms in the air and smack your knees all while fake laughing.
We’ve been trying to prepare you for the new baby that’s going to be entering our lives, but you don’t really seem all that interested. When we ask you whether you think it’s going to be a boy or a girl, you tell us you don’t know. When we ask you what we should name the baby you tell us, “Not yet.” You will kiss Mama’s belly every night, and say goodnight to the baby, but that’s about it.
We went to the rodeo again this year, and you loved seeing all of the animals. You played with the baby chicks, touched a cow, and asked all kinds of questions about the horses. In fact, you have just been full of questions the entire month. You’re such an inquisitive little girl. You want to know everything about everything, and I fear the day that you get your own phone. We’ll have to take out a second mortgage to pay for your minutes.
You also started memorizing books this month. I sat down with you a few weeks ago to read the “Rain Book” to you, and you opened it up and started reciting the whole thing to me. I ran to get the video camera so I could get it on tape. I’ll get it up here in a couple of days.
Next week we should know whether you’re having a brother or a sister, and I’m sure we’ll start making preparation for the baby to come. I hope that you’ll help us with decorating the room, and getting the house ready for your sibling to arrive. You’ve been such a big help in other ways around the house, like cleaning, “making dishes,” and picking up your room, I just know you’re going to be a great big sister.
We love you very much.