Which strangely worked out in my favor. While going through the bedtime routine, after the stories and songs, Alex did something she hadn't done in months, a gesture that disappeared around the time she started walking a year ago. A moment unmissed until it wasn't there anymore. I finished "Twinkle, Twinkle," and she slid into my elbow. Her body curled up against my chest, and her hand reached up to clutch at my collarbone, a tiny fist grasping the security of a body she once knew as her own. That deep snuggle was the snuggle of my baby, a baby that was already gone. I cuddled her closer, enjoying the intimate pose of trust.
And then she thunderously farted.
And that is Alex, age two. Unbearable sweetness, measured with hilarity (and stubbornness) all her own.
Alex, age two, loves to learn. She's quick, and interested, and has amazing stamina for following
through on concepts. I have no idea where she picks these things up. I suspect she has a good brain for quick memorization and utilization. After all, I'm not sitting down and going over letters and numbers with her, yet somehow she has them. All praise Sesame Street. Meanwhile, I do work with her on colors, and every time she is asked to identify "green" she looks at me like I'm insane, because that is not a color or name she's ever heard, ever, in her life. Go figure.
Alex, age two, loves music. She sings herself to sleep. She sings herself awake. She sings to herself while playing, eating, getting a diaper change. My new piano is no longer mine, but hers alone.* One of her first words was "pick," and she will search the floors for guitar picks so she can strum the guitars around the house. She's become quite a proficient booty-shaker, and loses her mind when her favorite song (by her favorite band, much to my chagrin, thanks but no thanks Taylor) comes on. She's also memorized a handful of Big Block Singsongs, and will bust out the moose and the monkey songs pretty often. True, they sound like gibberish to the untrained ear, but she keeps practicing.
Alex, age two, gives me hope in future Alex. My wish for her is to keep this curiosity, this willingness to try, this passion for the richness life offers.
This morning, Taylor and I took her for another, vastly more successful spin on her new bike. At one point, after multiple warnings and attempts to move her away from the curb, Alex took a tumble. The crash scared her. There might have been a few sobs. Then she grasped those handlebars in her still-baby-chubby hands, and got right back on the bike. No hesitation, absolutely rejecting help from us, she could do it. She wanted to do it.
Alex, age two, you've got all you need. With all your loves, you can build something great. I can't wait to see where other years take you.
I love you, Cheeks McGee. Happy Birthday.
1. 2.
*If I dare to play in her presence, whether she's by me or not, she'll rush over to the piano with a worried chorus of "no, no, no," before gently (but firmly) dragging my hands off the keys.
**Oh, how this girl waves hello. At everyone, and everything, at all times. One of my first mother-heartbreaks is watching her cheerily reach out with her hellos, and having people ignore or not acknowledge her. I know that will happen to her over and over--her putting herself out there with friendship, and being rejected. That being said, I do hope she continues in her cheery persistence. Even if it makes grocery shopping a bit of a timesuck/pain.
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