Dear Little Fish,
You are 2.5 and fabulous. Well, you’re actually more like 2.75 because it took me so long to get it together enough to write this. Why can’t I get it together, you ask? Because I’m too busy having fun with you!
You’re pretty much a connoisseur of fun, and you want to play all the time. No matter what I’m doing, if you say, “Mom, do you want to play?” I have to stop and hang out with you. I cannot resist the call to play. I cannot resist pretty much anything if you’re the one asking.
After fun, talking is your most favorite thing. Like, you do not stop. Ever. You talk so much that it’s easy to forget you’re only two until you say something totally goofball like the below:
Me: Hey, Lettie, how much pizza did you eat today?
You: Four seconds.
Whoa, four seconds of pizza! I think that’s a lot?
You like to dance and shake your arms and spin like a ballerina. You’re way into ballerinas right now. Your big move is to lift one of your legs and hold it for a fraction of a second. You’re pretty proud of that one. You like Dora and Daniel Tiger and your mommy.
Yep, you are a total mama’s girl at the moment. Every morning you wake up and call me from your crib in a pathetic whine, saying, “I want my mommy, my mommy.” Trust me, I am soaking up every single moment of this because I know when you’re a teenager it’ll be a totally different story.
Mostly what I love about you at 2.5 is how full of joy you are. Everything is the most exciting thing you’ve ever done. The other day, I picked you up from school in the middle of an ice storm. It was nasty outside. My coat was soaked and every step felt slippery and treacherous. I was worried about how I was going to get you home safely. I was stressed out about some dumb thing at work. I was tired.
But when I got to your school, your whole face lit up and you said, “Your coat is wet!” like it was hands-down the coolest thing you had seen all week.
I explained to you that, yes, it was raining out, and there was ice on the ground so we had to be careful. You then turned to your friend and said in a voice full of excitement, “We’re gonna go outside and our coats are gonna get really wet! And it’s slippery!”
You were so psyched to go outside in an ice storm. You’d never seen your winter coat splotched with rain before. You’d never felt your footfalls slip and slide all the way home. You were in uncharted territory, a whole new world, and you loved every minute of it.
And when I’m with you, that’s just how it is—the world is new and wacky and nonsensical and wonderful. It’s you and me together, on an adventure that never ends.