I never really wrote a proper “TWO” update and I feel like I need to because… well, TWO.
I told Catch the other day in the car that looking back on Charlotte’s babyhood solidifies the fact that I am just kind of meh about babies. I mean they’re lovely, squishy little bundles, and I appreciate the occasional baby snuggle and tiny clothes buying, but at the end of the day, babies are really freaking boring.
Charlotte’s teachers are astounded by two things: her height and her vocabulary. She is the youngest in her class but also the tallest and most verbal.
One day when Catch picked her up, one of her teachers said, “She knows so many songs! Usually we have to teach them the songs, but she already knows them all!” That, in a nutshell, is my kid. She never stops singing. She literally sings herself to sleep at night. It is not uncommon for us to stop what we’re doing and turn up the volume on the monitor because we suddenly hear a medley of happy birthday, Old McDonald and Wheels on the Bus coming from her room. She has even started making up her own songs.
Behaviorally, she is absolutely two. She is constantly testing limits and pushing boundaries. Overall though, I feel like we’re doing okay with things. Tantrums are generally pretty short-lived. Discipline and consequences have been a bigger struggle for us. Last night, kicking Rolo was HILARIOUS (to her.) Throwing sand is also fantastic (when you’re not the one having it thrown in your face).
I have a mole on my right cheek that she is obsessed with. It started during her bedtime routine one night. I was holding her while Catch read her a book and she looked up at me and pointed to my cheek, “What’s this?” I told her it’s a mole. Now, she likes to touch her finger to my cheek and announce, “It’s a mole.” I find this vastly preferable to her other habit of pointing to my chest and yelling, “It’s boobies!”
She is basically a walking bruise. Pretty much every part of her body is covered in bruises of some sort. She is so clumsy. (Totally my genes… sorry kid.) Last night as she was getting settled in her crib, she asked me to tuck her in. I told her to lie down, and she FLUNG herself down, totally misjudging the space between her body and the headboard of the crib. The crack of her head against the wood echoed through the room. At Target over the weekend, she was running down the aisle next to the one I was on (she was with Catch) when she caught her shoe on the floor somehow and face planted on that cold hard linoleum. SMACK. The screaming was instantaneous, as was the blood. We are basically trained to expect that anything that sounds like pitter patter pitter patter pitter patter will be immediately followed by thud/crash and then waaaaaaiiiiillllllll. The best part of these injures is when she offers you her sore body part, sniffles and asks, “Make it feel better?”
Nakedness is vastly preferable to clothes these days. This kid can remove her shorts and her diaper faster than you can blink. We hoped that her desire to be diaper-free might lead to an interest in potty training, but so far that’s a giant NOPE. No rush, kiddo.
We’re Going on a Bear Hunt has basically taken over our lives. Walks with the dogs have turned into bear hunts. I often wonder what the neighbors think when our child is running through the neighborhood yelling, “It’s a BEAR!”
“Alexa, play Let it Go!” We got an Echo a while back, and this is Charlotte’s primary takeaway. Alexa can’t quite understand her yet, but it won’t be long. Similarly, she will take a piece of junk mail, examine it thoroughly and then command, “Call Molly cell.” No clue how calling me got linked to junk mail postcards, but there we have it.
She’s over 3 feet tall, wears a size 8 shoe and 3T clothes. Sometimes when I’m holding her I am totally blown away by how long her legs are. If I have her on my hip, her legs dangle close to my knees.
We still have no idea whether she is right or left handed. That’s probably strange at this point. I really don’t know. She goes back and forth. We often feel like she has a bit better control with her left, but we still just have no clue. I wonder sometimes if it’s something I should worry about, and then I decide that I have enough to worry about.