Today you turn 35 months old. Well, technically you turned 35 months old last Tuesday, but we have been way too busy lately for me to get a chance to write this. We had two really fun holidays this month! Now that you are getting old enough to understand and anticipate holidays, I find I am enjoying them like I never have before.
We had a visit from the Leprechauns on Saint Patrick’s Day. They left green footprints all over the place and a special treat for you and your brother. We ate green eggs and ham and made shamrock crafts. Yours was a little abstract.
It basically consisted of you squeezing as much Elmer’s glue as possible out of the bottle before I took it from you and forced you to actually stick things onto your paper with it. Most of your crafts lately look like that. I have to feed my inner perfectionist a loooooot of Valium in order to avoid stifling your creativity. And boy, have you got some creativity.
You, child, are a glorious mess. How I love you for it. You have taught me how to take a deep breath and remind myself that finger-paint will eventually be cleaned up, but that the memories we are making will last forever. And you know what? You are fairly washable. Thank goodness.
Speaking of messes, can we talk about Easter? Oy.
I have many pictures of you looking very cute in your Easter clothes, but this one really sums up the holiday best. Coated inside and out with chocolate, buzzing hard on sugar, and wearing butterfly wings. We had a family party at Nanny’s house and man, did you have a lot of candy. Every adult there took nearly obscene delight in stuffing you full. I almost felt sorry for you. We took you home that afternoon and you curled up on your Dad’s shoulder and said, “Guys? I don’t think we should eat any more candy because it’s not very good for us.” Then I did feel sorry for you. I even threw out the candy you collected during the Easter egg hunt because, really, enough is enough.
All that being said, I hope you are ready to be spoiled rotten yet again in a few more weeks. That is right; the long-awaited birthday party is finally at hand. I may have begun preparing you for this a bit early. For the last month you have talked about little else. It has gotten to the point that any time you ask for anything and I say “no” you reply, “maybe for my birthday?”
It is going to be very fun, though. Hopefully I will be able to keep the sugar to a minimum. I may put the following picture on the fridge to remind myself what happens when you have too much of the white stuff.
Darling girl, it is hard to believe you are going to be three. I don’t know if I am ready. You sure are, though. You have the three-year-old debate skills down pat. For instance, not long ago you were busily jumping up and down when I thought I smelled an accident in your pull-up.
“Isabel”, I said sternly. “Come over here and let me change you.”
Without skipping a beat you bent down and scooped a plastic banana off the floor. You looked at me with the air of one who has the weight of immutable logic on her side. Still hopping, you raised your eyebrows and replied,
“Does a monkey get changed? Nooooo!”
I love you, little monkey, and can’t wait to see what next month brings us.
Love,
Mama
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