twenty four months

Dear Julianna,

My sweet little baby girl. My sweet little big girl. I can hardly call you a baby anymore. Somewhere around the two year mark is when people stop speaking in terms of months for your age and instead start speaking in terms of years. It’s bittersweet really. While I know that time inevitably marches on, I also long for the days when I could snuggle you easily whenever I wanted instead of just when you want. I long for the days when I could put you down and you wouldn’t run off and get into trouble. I long for the days when you needed me for everything. But at the same time I’m excited about the future days when you realize something new all on your own and you share it with me happily. I’m excited about the future days when you can dress and bathe yourself. I’m excited about the future days spent with you doing “bigger kid things” and I’m excited about the future days when you accomplish something you’ve never done before and I get to see that proud smile on your face.



Today when I picked you up from school you were giving your teacher the sweetest, most enormous bear hug I’ve ever seen you give. It made me smile from ear to ear and I couldn’t wait to hold you again even though you said you’d rather walk and then asked “Where Pap is?”


One of the cutest things you’ve learned this month is how to say, “Play marbles with me, please!” or “Play cards with me!” or “Read it to me.” Sometimes you’re so stinkin’ adorable that it’s hard to deny you a thing. That’s why every day since Easter you’ve had a cupcake, a chocolate egg, a piece of monkey birthday cake, or a ring pop – whichever you ask for that day. I’m a sucker for your brown eyes.

Plus you’ve got these amazing half-curls that stick out above your ears. You call your blonde hair “so pretty” when you brush it and you are turning into a beautiful little girl.

You’re doing better in the sleep department. You’ve stopped waking up in the middle of every night and only wake up every few nights. It’s also pleases me to be able to report that you’re still easy to get back to bed whenever you do wake up. You’ve moved into your big room and into a queen bed. The first night you slept there (your birthday night) you pooched out your bottom lip in protest just like you did exactly two years before (your real birthday) but of course you were easy to comfort and you did great sleeping there all night. We really, really, really love you for that.


Jules, you’ve made your daddy and I so proud to be parents. We weren’t sure how hard or how easy it would be but luckily you’ve made it loads of fun. The rewards of being your mama can’t compare to anything else I’ve experienced and I gush about you to anyone who’ll listen.

I can fondly remember those early days two years ago when I’d sit on the couch and closely examine every wrinkle in your long and tiny toes and I’ll treasure every moment I had like that with you, but I look forward to the new moments we get to share together and I’m so glad to have you. Happy birthday, Big Girl! I love you!

Love,
Mama