Thursday, November 14, 2013

our favorite two year old...


{photo courtesy of Marian Lozano}

...earned a "gold star" from Mommy for being a good listener one morning.  I use the term "gold star" as a way to give a compliment.  I don't necessarily run for a sticker.  Her big brother felt an actual, tangible star was in order.  So when we got home, he made her one.  Let's just say she had the biggest smile on her face.

...is potty training.  That's right - we're in the land of Minnie Mouse and princess panties and trips to the bathroom every seven and a half minutes (or so it seems).  She's been going number one on the potty off and on for awhile, but she wasn't thrilled about numero dos.  I get it - most kids are this way.  But it got to the point where it was so obvious when she was going, and I'd ask her about it, and she'd say, "Stop it, Mommy.  I'm fine."  And then she'd go.  The day before we started our intense training, I caught her in the act, and I told her, "Babe, today I'm going to let you do your thing, but tomorrow, we're going to start using the potty."  All day long she walked around saying, "Let me do my thing."  But we've crossed the number two hurdle (can I get an Amen?!), and she's gone two days at school without having an accident.  She doesn't seem to do quite so well at home, but accidents happen.  We'll get it:)

{photo courtesy of Marian Lozano}

...loves to do everything all by herself.  She can independently put on her socks, her panties, and her pants.  She can strip down like nobody's business.  She can unwrap a Starburst as though her life depends on it.  She can draw a circle.  And clean up her toys.  "All by myself," she says when she doesn't want our help.  Which is most of the time.

...has the hair I've always wanted.

...doesn't like to eat broccoli.  At all.  Last time I made broccoli for dinner, she told me, "Hannah don't like broccoli.  I told you - it's not good for me.  It's okay."  Oh.  Well, as long as it's okay with you, Baby.

{photo courtesy of Forever Studio}

...loves school.  She can't wait to see her teachers in the morning.  She loves to tell her "best friends" goodbye and give them a hug.  She comes home and tells stories about Miss Diana and Miss Carol and how they help her go potty and do her pretty hair.  She can't. get. enough.  We did the right thing by bringing her back to a place where she is so loved.  I knew it.

....sings songs all the time.  Sometimes I can figure them out, and sometimes not so much, but either way, it's super-cute.  She loves, "I found a little turtle, his name was Tiny Tim..." the best.  Well, that and Paparazzi.  She really loves Paparazzi.  And she asks to listen to it every morning on the way to school.  She dances with me in the kitchen and in the bathroom.  She puts her hands up and moves to the beat with full abandon.  And I can't get enough.

{photo courtesy of Forever Studio}

...has one of the most beautiful smiles I've ever seen.

...sometimes gets confused about how to refer to her special parts.  The other night, we were in our bathroom when she stumbled off an ottoman we have next to our bed to help them climb up.  She fell and hurt herself, and the next thing we know, she cries out, through splashy tears, "I hurt my junk!"  She has a big brother - what can I say?  We had to try really hard not to laugh because she really did hurt herself, but oh-my-goodness was her reaction funny.

...might be getting a to-die-for pair of magenta Uggs from Santa.  Just sayin'.

{photo courtesy of Marian Lozano}

...is bossy.  The other night, at bedtime, Daddy was hugging and kissing Hannah goodnight, as he does every night.  Except on that night, she told him, "Only three kisses," and cut it off with that.

...repeats everything we say. I've heard her distinctly telling Jack, "Don't talk to me that way," more often than I'd care to hear.  She will also say, "Listen to me," if she thinks you're the tiniest bit distracted.  Sometimes, she'll put her tiny hands on my cheeks, turn my face, and say, "Look in my eyeballs."  You'd think she's completely ignored, and I can assure you - that is not the case.


...might be a teacher.  Or at least a very good reader.  My teacher-heart skipped a beat when I caught her reading on the stairs.  Perfect form, my sweet girl.

...has discovered our first names.  And she is completely enthralled.  The other night at dinner she looked at me and said, "Brad is funny."

...is rather particular about her things (like lots of other people we know).  The other night, there was a toy on her nightstand that she had left there.  But before we tucked her in, she handed it to me and explained, "It does not beeslong in my room."


...fills our home with happiness.



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