Dear Little Elephant,
Today you are two years and 10 months old. I know that every Mama says their child is the smartest and the brightest and the most beautiful and the most wonderful; but in my case, I am right. You are brilliant (and very verbally precocious) and kind and outgoing and wonderful in a million different ways.
Your creativity is growing by leaps and bounds. While lying in bed this morning, you looked at the curtains and showed me how it formed an elephant with a long long trunk. I might not have been able to see it; but to you it was clear as day. At work the other day, a friend was holding you in his arms and listening intently to your stories. He furrowed his brow with concentration. Delighted, you yelled “Mommy, snakes! Look, he has snakes on his head.” Sure enough, the furrowed brow rolled skin on his forehead which perfectly resembled a row of snakes.
You compose songs. It is amazing to hear everything thought going through your head. You sing about your friends, about what you see, about what you are holding, about what you are doing, about what others are doing. The other day, you and A&O stood on the table (a no-no), looking into the mirror, and you strummed the guitar on your t-shirt and sang out: “we are on the table! We are not supposed to stand on the table! It is dangerous! Yes! You say no! We standing on the tableeeee!”
I love our little dance parties. We almost always have music on in the house. Sometimes it is Sesame Street. Sometimes it is jazz. Sometimes it is Mommy’s music. But, we can dance to anything and everything. I love how you watch very very carefully and try and follow my moves. Uncle J came over and put on “What does the fox say?” (I am sure when you are older and reading this, you won’t remember this song— but right now it is the coolest thing since sliced bread). He realized you were mimicking him and his dance moves got bolder and more daring. When O wanted to be held and dance with her Daddy, you got a little blond baby doll so you could continue to match his every motion. And, as Uncle J says, “Little Elephant’s hips don’t lie”.
You still love going to school. The school had a Mother’s Day concert. I wasn’t sure if you would participate since you aren’t a fulltime student, but your teacher said it was up to us. In the end, I brought you. You proudly walked on stage with all your classmates and then, when your turn was done, refused to leave. You stayed up through the performance of all the older classes as well, singing where you could and trying to follow along. In addition, you love to do art. You paint. You made a turtle and a fish from plates. We went to Ice Cream with Jugera the other day and she brought you playdoh with cookie cutters to make animals and little googly eyes to stick in them. We made an elephant (of course!) and I put on one eye. “No, Mommy. Not like that” you scolded. “She needs two eyes, like us. One. Two.” You flipped her over and added an eye.
You brought home a little turtle this month, you had found her wandering in the grass. You so wanted to keep your little turtle. But after two days, and her not eating, you agreed to let her go home to her Mommy. Little ones need their Mommies, you told me. Little do you know, how much this Mommy needs her little one.
Everyday you are better at expressing and naming your feelings. You even are starting to recognize and respond to the feelings of others. When O was crying the other day (she was teething), you found it very disturbing. You tried to hug her. You tried to feed her. You talked about it for days, reporting to your Daddy via Skype that O has an owie on her teeth and it makes her grumpy.
I love you every day. I love you no matter what. I love you when I am mad and when I am too tired and when you wake me. You are my sunshine, even if you keep telling me that your true sunshine is Stefan.