Letter to Luella: Thirty-three months

Dear Lulu,

Oh man, THIRTY THREE MONTHS. Sigh. Do you know that’s just 3 months short of a three year old? Up until this weekend when I’d try to tell you that you’d soon be three, you’d get mad at me, “I TWO!!” I think you thought you were going to stay two forever. I wish. Now you get it. Birthdays come with presents and parties and cake, you’re excited about being three.

Right now, as I write this, you’re asleep in bed. You’ll wake in an hour or so, and together we’ll sit in the quiet of the morning as we do each day, and you’ll wake up slowly. Then you’ll get hungry and demand food {usually noodles, breakfast food… I don’t think so} and the quiet of the morning is over.

You really are the sweetest two year old I know. You’ve got a beautiful heart, and the most brilliant sense of humour. Already you know what makes people laugh, and you’ll do it just to make people smile.

You’re very clingy with me, and you certainly want to be where I am… but once you know that I’m around and near you, you’ll potter around playing imaginary games. Oh, I LOVE that you’ve got an imagination like you do.

Last night you set up a little doctor’s clinic and treated almost every toy you have. It was right at dinner time, and you couldn’t eat until you’d treated all the toys… which meant your dinner went cold.

Did I mention that you’re also stubborn? I probably need to be harder on you. I probably should have just fought you and made you eat your dinner, but I pick my battles. And you’re so cute… it’s hard to upset you {yes, I’m in trouble. You’ve got me wrapped around your little finger}.

Lacey and you are at those awesome ages, where she knows what annoys you so she does it repeatedly… and you’ll scream blue murder. So. Much. Fun. I get frustrated because it would be easier if Lacey didn’t annoy you, but it would also be mighty nice if you stopped making that ear-aching screaming noise.

Every. Single. Day.

Your favourite outfit is your birthday suit, and you don’t care that it’s now winter and also not always appropriate. As soon as we get home from being out, you’ll be all, “I’m gonna be NAKED!” and you promptly strip off.

You’re also brilliant at tantrums. The other day you screamed for about an hour because your shoes were on the RIGHT feet. I don’t know either. I gave up. It was painful and frustrating, but I imagine it was just about the same for you too. How dare I put your shoes on the right feet?

Can I brag about you for a moment? You’re a beautiful swimmer. It makes my heart swell. We’re a water-loving family, so it was important for me to start you in lessons early {but I knew I’d only stay if you loved it, and you did}. You can swim so well and you’re not even three. Seeing you in your little cossie with your goggles on is the cutest thing ever. I must get a photo for us to remember.

I just want to tell you what a joy you are. Tantrums aside, you are the most blissful toddler ever. You’re so pleasant to be around, and I wish every week that work didn’t exist so we could just be together for every moment. I realise time is flying by so fast and it feels like such a crime to not be soaking you up for every moment of every day. Such a crime.

Dad and I say regularly, that if we could be promised that any future babies we’d have would be just like you {you’re a great sleeper! You’re content and you’re so smart and fun!} then we’d have more, so many more. But you and Lacey are enough. You are our beautiful, perfect girls and we couldn’t be happier. We got lucky with you two.

Now if only you’d get along all the time. ?

Thank you for being you,Mum xx

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