Nora Rainbow is two. She’s been two for a couple of weeks now but we have had a bit going on in Colorado with being under water and stranded in the mountains and all that. But I didn’t want the day to completely escape without writing down a little bit about what our two-year-old is like right now.
You are two. Right now you are rocking your first shiner. You got the shiner because you were running around the living room with your brother’s superman cape on and your shoes on the wrong feet. You had dressed yourself because I really can’t keep up with the sheer amount of fashion whimsy that happens around here. So, you were running and yelling “Dying!” which is how you say “Flying.” This is also how you say “Climbing and Driving.” The fact that you are saying “Dying” all the time really disturbs your brother because he thinks you are actually saying “Dying” and he doesn’t like that you are so morbid all the time.
Well, anyway, when you were running, you tripped over your shoes and hit the wooden beam of a chair with your face. And then you cried. You never cry when you fall, so that’s how I knew you were really hurt. One time, at the water fountains, I even watched you wipe-out, split your knee open to the point of blood immediately streaking down your leg, get up, brush it off and keep running. We have sometimes wondered if you can feel pain.
So, little girl, you are a tough one. I see a future with me hiding my eyes at ski meets.
One of my favorite times of the day with you is when you first wake up from your nap. You grab your blanket and sneakily tuck your binky under it (like I won’t notice) and we snuggle on the rocking chair and you say “rock, rock, pat, pat.” You are soft and warm and you twirl your binky around and around. You let some of that toughness go and snuggle in and it is the sweetest, most wonderful thing ever.
You love fiercely, but selectively and on your own time. You are kind of like a cat. Much to the consternation of the many who want to squeeze you. Your Nana and Grammy and Aunties are very lucky because they are who you choose, thank you very much.
I sorta love to see the little gleam in your eye when your brother is busy concentrating on something and you go up and poke him or take his stuff. And then he freaks out and you scream and run and it makes me CRAZY. But I sorta love it too.
You love babies. Except when they are touching your stuff, or their stuff, or any stuff really.
You have wholeheartedly embraced being in this family of eavesdroppers. I will sometimes be sitting in a restaurant and realize that everyone at the table but me is completely absorbed by watching and listening to the people at other tables.
You have also inherited our family’s stress-narcolepsy. If anything at all stressful happens, like not having a cookie for breakfast or not getting to play with scissors, you fall on the ground in tears and ask to go to bed. I get it.
I love that I can have complete conversations with you. And you say “Oh!” when I explain things like you can’t go to the store without any clothes on.
I love that when you get tickled or thrown in the air you keep saying “More!” until you are in an exhausted heap on the floor.
I love how when you see a rainbow you say “Mine!”
I love that you match pitch with your dad when you sing in the car.
And finally, Stephen King once wrote a dedication to his grandchild that I loved. He said “Thanks for joining the party.”
So, Happy Birthday little one. We are so glad you decided to join our party.