Dear Cecily,
In the morning you will be two, which is actually not at all shocking since you’ve been acting like you were two for months. We regularly have to remind ourselves that no, you’re not yet two, and we shouldn’t hold you to such high standards, but it’s hard because...well, because you’re ridiculously clever and charming and excited about the world around you in a way that projects well beyond your years.
A few nights ago, you finally realized you could just climb out of your crib and there’s not much we can do about it except put you back. That’s been exciting. You just show up when we think you’re napping, all smiles and ready to participate in whatever we’re doing.
You’re talking like crazy. You were an early talker, and you’ve always babbled constantly, but lately you’re just flat out communicating with us. Telling us things you want. Saying sorry when you’ve upset somebody. Telling everybody you love them.
You are so full of love. For us, for your siblings, for your Granny and Memere, for the cats, and for spiders. Oh man, do you love spiders. You recently got a stuffed spider you carry around with you and pretend is hissing at us, which is frankly pretty weird. You demand every day to be lifted up to look at the spiders in our windows, which you have named and watch grow from tiny little things to massive orb weavers with incredible webs, which you are fascinated with. The one in our bedroom window is named Puppy Nina. The one in the basement is Dozey Dozey.
You are strategically cute. Maddeningly so. Without fail, whenever you’ve driven us to our last nerve, you suddenly hug a leg and say “I love you” or give us your signature cheesy smile. I often joke that cuteness is the only thing that keeps us from feeding our children to coyotes, but that goes doubly so for you
You want desperately to participate in all things. When Simon’s therapists are here, you simply must say hi and get all up in their business. When Maddie comes home from school, you are completely overcome with joy. When any human in the house steps the slightest hint of a foot outside, immediately the chant of, “Mommy, I wan go ousside!” begins. You are eternally certain you are missing out, which is silly because you do SO MUCH.
You are the quintessential toddler. Did somebody leave paint out? Guess what’s going to happen next! Is the toilet open? Better stand in it! You are exasperating and wonderful and full of surprises. Some of them even good!
And you are loved. Oh, how you are loved. We love you infinitely. Maddie absolutely adores you, even though you’re not always the quietest roommate. Simon is mostly cautiously amused by you, but I think there’s some love there. The cats...well, honestly, they’re not huge fans. But your Memere and Granny love you! Your aunts and uncles and cousins love you! You are so loved!
I’m going to go put you back in your crib for the 157th time tonight, but I do it with a renewed spirit after reminding myself just how special you are.
Happy birthday, my littlest girl. Don’t grow up too fast.
Love,
Daddy
