month 22

To be fair, I think it’s been pretty obvious that your dad and I have no idea what we’re doing. That sort of goes without saying. But we…meaning, your dad, have been a tad overwhelmed of late by the sheer amount of work it takes to get you through a 24 hour period. Dad has been so great about jumping in lately and helping out, but between your growing ability to let us know EXACTLY what you want, and this crazy bout of stomach flu you’ve had for the last few days, you’ve really kept us going. Especially because all you really want is to feel better, but you don’t know how. To eat or not to eat…that has been the question these last few days.

Oh, and remember how I was going to be #1 Mom and not rot your brain with television anymore? Well, leave it to the pukes to make me throw all of my laurels and good intentions out the window. Pretty much, if you’re up, you’re semi-comatose in front of the television, destroying your imagination one cartoon at a time. I only hope Underdog can get you through grade school so they won’t throw me in jail.

But aside from the stomach flu and bringing up your parents through the parenting school of hard knocks (I promise we won’t mess you up too bad), you have made great strides this month. Your vocabulary has grown from grunts and pointing, to words that only I understand, to now making sense to most people. You can tell me your hungry, thirsty, tired, in need of a specific toy, or, your newest one, you can tell me you need to go potty.

*collective gasp*

No, my daughter you’re not yet potty trained. However, you have shown much interest in the potty these days and you tell me you need to go, only it’s after you’ve already gone. But we all start somewhere. It makes you feel so big to sit up there like your brother and try, though. One of these days we’ll have a big giant “success” and you won’t need those diapers anymore. But until then, we’re taking it at your own pace. Meaning, I am not officially potty training you yet.

Because my hair is already turning just a little bit gray, and we don't want to hasten the process.

Lily, you are a study in contrasts. You are fragile and sensitive, but courageous and full of heart as well. You are a great combination of pretty and playful. You can’t stand to have dirt on your hands, but you only notice after you’ve been digging in the dirt all morning.

And, of course, if Alex does it, you want to do it too.

This afternoon we went to the park and we had to stop by that tree that Alex loves to practice climbing, and you laid down on the grass and gazed at the sun-kissed leaves as the wind rustled through the tree and then swept through your hair that you'd pulled the pigtails out of hours before. It's an image I didn't take a picture of with a camera, but I did with my mind. It's a perfect representation of the stage you're in, and the reason why we've (attempted) to turn off the TV. I love the wonder in your face as you experience nature and play outside. There's so much to see in the grass, in the rocks, and in the garden that it could hold your interest all day.

However, grass and rocks, plus garden usually equals Nightly Bath--which normally you love. Except that one night when you decided that the bath water was just the right temperature to make the macaroni Al Dente.

That was a fun mess to clean up.

Lily, you are sweet, kind, funny, and smart.

And so beautiful. Even with spaghetti sauce on your face and messy hair.

So very beautiful. My girl.