Thursday, December 8, 2011

two and a half (plus a month)

My sweet Morgan,

Just so you know, your mom is a slacker. You turned two and a half on November 8th and I'm just now writing this letter to you. A month later. Truth is, this probably will only get worse over the years so you might as well get used to it now. You motivate me to do this post anyway, even if it is late. Waking up every morning and seeing you snuggle with Daddy makes my day. You look up at me with the sweetest smile as I kiss you good morning. I get a little jealous wishing I was the one you wanted to snuggle with, but I get it. You need your daddy time in the mornings. The rest of the day is all about mommy and that totally makes up for it. At night you cry when it's not mommy's turn to put you to bed. It breaks my heart, but we have to stick to the routine.
You're still so snuggly and cuddly. You're always so content just sitting on my lap while I give you hugs and kisses. Every night you pick out books to read. You stack them up on the ottoman until they are almost falling over. We read about three. Then you just want me to rock you as you wrap your arms around my neck and squeeze tightly. Maybe you fear that I will let you go. I will never. You're always in my thoughts. Even as I sleep I think of you and your sister. I can't wait to get you out of bed in the morning and start everything all over again.
I love the way you actually let me do your hair and clip your fingernails. You sit so patiently and seem so amazed at the final product. You've recently been potty training. I'll admit it's been tough. I wondered if you were ever going to get it. For two weeks now you've been wearing panties to school. The average was three accidents a day and a load of laundry each night. Yesterday you were so proud when you came home in your original clothes and happily exclaimed that you went to the potty all day. I was so happy. I hope it's finally all starting to click. For your sake and mine.
You're a funny girl, just like your daddy. You do things that you don't even know are funny. Like every time you dance you like to look at your reflection. We watch you as you bobble back and forth with the music. You took a break from the dancing for awhile, but you're back at it. And you can't dance by yourself. Every time you hear music you come running to tell me to dance with you. Sometimes like this, you say, with your hand moving back and forth. That's the fish move, one of your favorites. I giggle all the time. Your expressions and the off the cuff remarks kill me. I sometimes wonder how your little brain comes up with these things.
Unlike your sister, you love to pose for pictures. As soon as you hear the click you come running over because you have to see the picture. You're so independent and have to try everything by yourself. I try to be patient and sit back waiting for you to ask me for help. You always do. You love baby dolls, puzzles and books and like to read the story by  yourself. It's all made up and a jumble of words, but it doesn't matter. You look like the smartest girl in the world when you're lost in a book. Sometimes you and your sister like to make a fort in your crib or the closet. You'll both sit quietly and play with the massive pile of stuff you've accumalated. You like to watch movies and eat popcorn with Addison. When the popcorn is done you cuddle up close to her and hug her. I love walking in and seeing those moments.
This year we got our first real Christmas tree. You tell me all the time that you're allowed to touch the tree, but not the ornaments. All with a twinkle in your eye. Every time Santa comes on the tv you scream with joy. You love him, just not in person. Same with the Chick-fil-a cow. Everything is good from a distance and the excitement is adorable, but if you get within two feet of them you freak out.

I'm sorry to tell you that Santa may be going back to the North Pole with your paci's. It will probably break my heart more than yours. My baby is turning into a little girl.

I love you sweetheart.

Mommy

*Last picture taken by Amy Barry from Couture Wedding Studios. Find her on Facebook HERE!

1 comment:

Krista said...

You kill me with these wonderful letters. Each one creates a lump in my throat and I am thankful you allow me to share the emotion.