The Little Things...

The terrible twos.
I remember these days.
Two and a half years ago I have my first bout with a smart, strong-willed girl.
And then I had a newborn daughter.
I cringed at the thought of going through it all again.
And I knew I would.
And look who was right.

The tantrums, the potty-training, the blatant disregard for the sound of my voice giving any instruction.
The "No!"
"I do it myself!"
"I don't want to."

And yet here I sit, writing about Miss Belle.
I survived one two-year old (and let's be real honest, the 3s were way worse, they made the term "terrible two" laughable.)
I can surely survive another right?

But instead of griping, as I am so fond of, I wanted to take a moment and find joy and humor in the little things.
Even he tantrums and the "no"

And an extremely long, rough day set this post in motion, so I write it under the guise of being introspective with a glass of wine in hand.

The way she talks.
Avery rarely uses the words "I" or "my" correctly. It's always "mine." 
"Mine paci, mine cup" "Mine please have your iPad"
And the answer to every question is "Mine don't know," followed immediately by the answer she does, in fact, know.
And every baby is greeted with "Hi cutie tootie!" I think she's trying to say "cutie patootie," but that's as made up as the next, so we just roll with it!
And Nate and I are usually some version of "mom" and "dad," but every now and then she calls us "Modder" and "Fadder."

The way she draws.
Her older sister is big into drawing, so of, she must follow suit. Liv can draw rainbows and stars and people and whole scenes that make up a story. Avery draws her version of a smiley face. And the letters A, O, I and V.  She must watch her big sister print her own name. Probably should start writing "Avery" out more so there's no identity crisis later.

Every noise is music to her.
The dings of silverware going into the drawer, her jacket zipper, any sound, sounds like music to her little ears.  I want to remember the simple joy of hearing and learning for the first time. So often, things are just what they are, and at best, an obnoxious sound you can drowned out.  Not to her little, learning ears.

Her obsession with Chap Stick.
I'm not kidding. This girl will riffle through anyone's purse or bathroom drawer to find "mine lipstick!" She totes most around in a little heart-shaped princess tin box like they're gold.  For Nate's birthdays, I tok the girls to the Dollar Store and told them to find anything that they think their dad would like.  Liv hunted the aisles making careful selections, but Avery knew right away: 
Daddy loves blue Chapstick, just like me!
Her most prized possession, willing to share with her good 'ole dad.

She can be unexpectedly sweet.
A random kiss on the shoulder when we're sitting together or how she wants to sit on Olivia's lap while they watch a show. She has her fair share of moments when the last thing she wants is a kiss or a hug, so when she has a moment of affection, they're all the more precious.

There are plenty of #reasonsmytoddleriscrying, but it's nice to remember every now and then that my Baby Belle does smile and make me laugh.

1 comment:

Organized Chaos said...

This is beautiful! I am also surviving the twos and heading full steam into the threes with a one year old waiting his turn! Lil mister also thinks everything is his! And loves absolutely loves chapstick! He tells me he wants to put his lips on! lol Its nice to think of the joy in all the chaos! Thank you for the reminder!

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