Dearest Hazel,
You are 2 years old. Well, more specifically, 2 years and almost 1 month. I am going to try and capture, here in this space, some details about the Hazel of today so that both you and I can return here to remember you just as you are in this phase. During this era of you. Because it is all so fleeting, and as much as I'd like to, I cannot freeze time. Perhaps when you read this, our scientists will have figured out how to do that. But for now, all we have is the beautiful, full, present moment.
Today we had your 2 year check up at the doctor's office. You are very healthy, in the 45th percentile for weight and extremely tall in the 97th percentile for height! You still have anxiety at the doctor's office; you cried when we pulled up, as you knew where we were. You clung to me, wanting me to "rock you"... but this time at the doctor, things were different. Although there were moments of struggle, there were many moments of bravery, which I hadn't seen like this before. You seemed to understand that this was something we had to do, although difficult for you. You were comforted by toys, books, and by the song we've sung to you every day since before you were born. Although wary of him, you looked the doctor in the eyes when he asked you questions. You cried, held me tight, and didn't move your arm when the nurse quickly gave you your shot.
I am very proud of you and your bravery.
Your language development has taken off, and you now talk almost constantly. You speak in full sentences - not all the time, but when you do it is a delightful shock! You say things like, "Daddy, get the water please?" and "Maddy, come here!" and "Good job, Mommy." You make cute comments after eating food you like (fruit and bread, primarily), such as "Mmm - delicious." Makes me laugh every time.
You can say and sing your ABCs; you can count from 1 to 15 in English and from 1 to 10 in Spanish (which amazes the pants off me); and every day you want to take off your diaper and sit on the potty and sing the potty song (but you still haven't gone IN the potty yet... in your own time). You love to sing songs and lately, to do something called the "silly dance." For the silly dance, your Daddy and I must be standing up (not ever sitting, or kneeling, or anything but standing), clapping our hands, and singing any upbeat song while you turn, kick your legs, twist and swing your arms while we keep you from running into doors, corners or any sharp edges of furniture. It's pretty awesome.
I am very proud of your smarts and your expressive nature.
Today, after we got home from the doctor, your favorite play gym/music class, and lunch, we sat on the couch together and watched Mickey Mouse. With you cradled under my arm, you watched with wonder as you always do, and I dozed off into a light sleep. It was comfortable and sweet, in the aftermath of our morning. I couldn't help falling asleep (no offense, Mickey) ... your little sister is taking much of my energy these days, and sometimes being physically present with you is all I can accomplish. I am afraid that this is only the beginning of this new divide in my energy, as all parents with more than one child can likely attest. I think about this, about how your life is going to change so much in just four short months. I think about how you will feel, and I'm sure you will feel so many things. Things that you're not developmentally able to verbalize. I think about how you will feel about your baby sister, and I know it will be a complex thing. If how you care for your stuffed animal friends is any indication (hugging, kissing, rocking, feeding), I am so excited to see how you will grow to love and care for your baby sister, too.
Last week, we were at your favorite play gym when a little girl about your age climbed to the top of a pyramid of mats in the corner. She stood there for a moment, not moving and quietly looking down at the few people below her. Her father was sitting outside the play area, reading a book. You stood at the bottom of the pyramid, watching the girl intently, assessing her need. Then, most gently and sincerely, you said, "Help you? Help you down?" You repeated yourself, and the little girl didn't respond. My heart broke and soared at the same time.
I am so very, very proud of your precious heart.
You are two years old, and these are a few glimpses of you today. I am trying so very hard, to be present with you as I know I will long for you at this age when you are older, and miss these days when they are gone. You teach me about love and about my own strengths and limitations every day. You reveal more about your character as you continue to grow and develop...and you delight and inspire me with both the breadth of what you can do and the depth of who you are.
I am so proud and so blessed, and so honored to be your mom.
All things considered, you are Hazel. You are beautifully, wonderfully you. And I wouldn't have it any other way.
