Merry Christmas to All. And to All a Good Night.

It's Christmas Day, a little after 9 p.m., and I'm in my mom's living room watching Ella play with her new unicorn and a new polly pocket -- while my mom bribes Kate to (finally) eat dinner, or some semblance thereof, in the kitchen.

They're both in poofy princess dresses, Ella as Cinderella and Kate as Snow White. Presents cover every square inch of the living room, except a thin walking path that lets us get from one side of the room to the other. I haven't left my pajamas all day -- including the three hour drive it took to get here.

My cousins Molly and Olivia -- visiting from NYC -- who not so long ago were my Christmas babies -- are now 20 and 16 years old. Not accustomed to the gigantic "Ohio" feasts my mother prepares, Molly just said "I want mashed potatoes," and Olivia semi-excitedly told her to join her for late-night left overs in the kitchen.

We've once again been blessed with the perfect Christmas. And I feel so grateful. In a 'my-cup-runneth-over' way. I just can't believe how quickly this season flies by every year. So I'm celebrating by taking a look back at the month of December. To remind myself that, as busy as this time of year usually gets, we do a pretty good job at filling it with some really special memories.

Like....

A day-after-Thanksgiving visit to an early Christmas party at Mill Creek Park, in my hometown. My mom gave the girls these princess dresses that morning and they refused to leave without them. (Yes, these are the same dresses they're wearing as I type, 1 month later.)



24 visits from Melvin, our Elf on the Shelf.















Our annual, 10-minute trip to pick out a Christmas Tree. Kate has fallen asleep on the way, two years running.





Zoo Lights. And our first trip to see Santa Claus.



Ella and Kate both had their annual "holiday show" in ballet class. Complete with jingle bells on their skirts and galloping on horses disguised as rudolphs.





Ella's first-ever school Christmas show. She sang "The Lights on the Tree" to the tune of "The Wheels on the Bus." And I have the video to prove that she knew all the words, all the movements, and she sang the very loudest. She even curtsied at the end (after stepping in front of the poor little guy next to her to do so.)





A few fun homemade Christmas gifts, incliding these Disney princesses I painted (thank you, Etsy, for the idea. I just couldn't bear to shell out $75 for this set. Thanks to Hobby Lobby, the homemade version cost $8 plus 2 hours of time. The legit version of Belle didn't look like Eddie Munster, but you get what you pay for.)



A very fun Rudolph-themed birthday party for our little friend Claire's 5th birthday.



A really fabulous visit to Santa at the Worthington Mall. He's the real deal. I'm pretty certain of it.



Our very first viewing of the Nutcracker. It was pretty magical, and the girls were perhaps most excited to see Miss Jessica, their beloved ballet teacher, at the theater. They were on the edges of their seats, with anxious, magical excitement...for the first 15 minutes. Fidgety with ankles in the air for the last 15....but oh, those first 15 were pretty cool.






Decorating Christmas cookies with my best friends and their kiddos.





Taking gifts, donated by Chris's clients, to our local fire house's Toys for Tots campaign. We need to do more of this next year; not just giving financially. Giving back in ways the girls can experience and enjoy and understand.



The girls took cookies to a local nursing home with our wonderful friend and nanny, Sarah. We made something that resembles a gingerbread house. We iced some very...interesting looking...Christmas cookies. Ate a lot of candy canes. Sang a lot of Christmas carols. Well, to be more specific, we sang the most popular lines of Christmas carols. We 'went the long way' to our house, turning down an extra 2 streets, so the girls could see the 'pretty houses' that most closely resemble a Griswald residence. We talked a lot about baby Jesus, and how Christmas is His birthday, and how he popped out of Mary's belly in Bethlehem.

On Christmas Eve, we celebrated at Nana's and gave her her very own princess dress. I can't share the photos because I have yet to upload them. We also dressed the girls up like Cindy Lou Who, crazy hair and all. Because they're 2 and 3 years old. And I can still do things like that without any humphing or hawing or protest. They shrieked with glee when they saw their hair standing 6 inches above their little heads.

And more than anything, Chris and I marveled at the beauty and splendor and simplicity and wonder of Christmas through our two little girls' very innocent eyes.

We've had a blessed year and a beautiful December and a perfect Christmas Day. I know that life is not always this enchanted, so I am all the more grateful to God for all these blessings and more.

And with that, I wish a Merry Christmas to all. And to all, a good night.

My Dearest Kate-Kate

My sweet, spirited, funny girl. You're growing up so very fast. Sometimes it seems like you're growing up even faster than your big sissy. Maybe it feels that way because I kind of want to keep you as my baby. Maybe it's because I just may always feel guilty that I didn't get to give you my undivided attention, the way I could when your sister was first born.

Either way, I keep finding myself wanting to take time out to look back on all the ways my baby girl has changed over the 2 and a half years.

It wasn't so long ago that we used to call you our little amoeba.



You were born stunningly beautiful, if I do say so myself. And you were born easy, too. On that beautiful day that we scheduled you to come into the world (I was fortunate enough to get to pick the day we'd get to meet you), you caused me not even one milli-second of pain. I didn't feel a single contraction. Not as much as a pinprick. You came out of my belly in less than three pushes, in less than 60 seconds.





Those first days -- those first months -- after we brought you home...well, they're a blur. Your sissy was just 14 months old when you were born, and trying to keep up with her -- to make her feel loved with a brand new baby in the house, well, it wasn't 'hard.' It was a blessing and I loved every second. But it did take a lot of my attention.



But you. Oh, you, my sweet Kate-Kate. You were just so very easy.



We took you to Columbus Crew game when you were just 2 weeks old.



You came to MyGym with your sissy, quietly hanging in the baby carrier on my chest. You laid quietly, with a big smile on your face, in the stroller as your sissy ran around the park.

Even as a tiny baby, you rarely cried. You happily slept next to me -- and slept through the night almost instantly. I don't remember many sleepless nights with your sister, but I don't remember any sleepless nights with you, my darling girl.



You had dark brown hair and back then, you had slate blue eyes. Your first smiles were heart-stealing. Breath-taking.





Even as you started to crawl and walk, you were easy. We finished the playroom just a few months shy of your first birthday. And you'd happily sit and play with whatever toy your older sissy didn't want to steal from you. When she did take a toy from you, or race by you so fast that she accidentally knocked you over, you never cried. You usually smiled. Never made a big deal over it. You were just our little amoeba, floating happily around the room, our home...never complaining and rarely asking for anything at all.



I can't recall exactly when your little personality evolved. I remember you gaining a sense of humor...sitting at the table making funny faces as you ate breakfast, raising one eye brow and laughing at yourself, knowing you were funny.







And at some point, you shed your amoeba-like ways and developed your current, very head-strong, confident, "I'm not gonna be pushed around" little personality that still surprises me from time to time.

If someone -- anyone -- tells you no, or suggests you do something you don't want to do....like...brush your teeth or brush your hair or stop playing to eat dinner....you immediately furrow your beautiful eyebrows and push out your very pouty lower lip, exclaiming "meano!"

Not only do you no longer allow Ella to take toys from you...you are now often the toy-stealing culprit. I can't help but believe that your toy thiefdom is not your fault. You spent many months as a pacifist...trying; without violence; to just get a glimpse of a toy -- any toy -- your sister had. Now, you've thrown caution to the wind. When Ella has a toy you want, you just go after it with reckless abandon. Sometimes taking it and running around the house as she chases you for it..as you both scream bloody murder. Holding on to the toy like your life depends on it. Refusing to give it back until I tear it from your tight little grip and force you into Time Out. Oh, Kate. You spend a lot of time in Time Out.



Luckily, you have Macie's sympathies. And she often joins you in your 2-minute confinement.



Now in the middle of what many call the Terrible Two's, you say "no" far more than you say yes. You stomp and pout and stick your tongue out about 20 times a day. You hit your sissy too many times to count (and for the record, you should know...she shows amazing restraint and rarely retaliates!) You've hit me in the face more than a few times, and have recently taken to throwing your sippy cup at us; recently clocking both your daddy and I in the head on the very same day.

But, Terrible Two's aside, you are still a heart-stealing, breathtaking, darling, beloved little girl.

You grow more beautiful every day. Your hair in ringlets of curls from the nape of your neck.



And when I put it in ponytails, your face becomes even more stunning. Your eyes seem to grow larger every day, like a Disney character's. Your beautiful, peach colored, flawless skin ... punctuated by your big, contagious smile.

You finally gave up your binky, just a few weeks ago, and the inward slant of your lower front teeth are evidence that we should've taken it away from you sooner.

Now binky-less, you talk more and more every day; in full sentences. You use your words well and have a funny and full vocabulary, like your sissy. Telling me that your favorite foods are "delithous." Like your sister, you have a powerful sense of right and wrong. Turning to me with furrowed brow, proclaiming with disdain when a cartoon character does or says something mean. "That's not nice, Mommy!"

You adore stuffed animals. Mousy is your favorite, but "purple puppy," "piggy," "octopus" + "Clifford" have also had special places in your heart, depending on the day. You insist on sleeping with all of them, and you often insist on bringing them all downstairs to breakfast with you, along with 'both banks,' which means both of your identical pink blankets.

You love, love, love dance class....and dancing in general. At just 1 and a half years old, you took Ella's ballet class with her...and even tried your hand at teaching.



I don't have any photos of it...but I love the way you rock out in your carseat, headbanging to every song, with your eyes closed.

You are confident and passionate, and I love our Thursday mornings together...when we drop sissy off at school and then go to the Firefly Cafe. You get to interact with the other pre-schoolers (and toddlers) all by yourself, jumping for 20 minutes at a time in the bounce house and playing for what seems like forever with the magnetic shapes on the wall. Greeting all the children you see -- especially the younger ones -- by gently grabbing for their hands and looking in their eyes, asking their names and putting your little hand on your chest as you say "I Kate-Kate."



You love -- dare-I-say -- you adore candy...candy of any kind. Sweet. Sour. Chocolate. Your favorite of all is the lollipop. You exclaim "MMMM, mmmm!" in between each forceful lick, often inserting a verbal proclomation "I wove wowwipops!" And cupcakes. Girl, you LOVE a good cupcake.





Each night, when I tuck you into bed, you once again remind me of your sweet, gentle, amoeba-like self that you were as a baby. "Lay with me, Momma," you say...asking me to lay on the floor, next to your toddler bed, until you fall asleep.

You say your prayers every night. I am certain that Jesus' heart must hurt as much as mine does when he hears you whisper the prayer you memorized after just a few nights: "Jesus, thank you that I'm healthy safe. Thank you for my mommy and daddy and sissy and aaaaallll the people who 'wuv' me. Please help me be good girl. Amen."

Then you close your eyes, hugging your best friend, mousy, covered in both of your 'banks,' and you sigh, "Goodnight, Mommy." And I'm reminded that, Terrible Two's or not, you'll be my little amoeba, swimming around my heart for as long as I live.

My Little Big Girl

Dear Ella,

You are so big. Literally and figuratively.



Your doctor says you're 'off the charts' when it comes to height. But that's just a tiny part of how you're growing up so fast. I don't know how to officially measure a child's vocabulary. But I'm pretty sure you have the speech patterns and vocabulary that's more advanced than many adults I know. You call Kate "destructo" when she makes a mess. You tell Daddy he's "hilarious" and you tell Kate she's being "ridiclious" (spelled as you say it!) when she throws temper tantrums for no reason.

You've recently picked up 'tone' too. The other day, I lightly tapped you in the head when you said something crabby. You looked at me, head cocked to the side, and said "Really, mom? Did you really just hit me in the head? Really?" You sounded like an exact mini-me of your daddy.



You're a sponge. You remember EVERYTHING. I took you to pre-school the other day and I explained that I had to give them a list of your immunizations. You asked me why. I explained that the teachers needed to make sure you wouldn't get certain illnesses; so you wouldn't make the other kids sick. Then I went through some examples, describing mumps, measles, chicken pox, whooping cough, polio.

Several days later, we were driving with Grandma, and you randomly said "Hey mom, can you let Grandma know the dealio on the sick-en-nesses?" That's how you say sickness, and I love it, so I never correct it, because I love that you're 3 and pronouncing it as it's spelled. I finally figured out that you wanted me to explain to her all of the immunizations you'd gotten. I couldn't even believe that you remembered that conversation to begin with.

You already have an ingrained sense of kindness. When you see a child say something mean in a TV show, you furrow your eyebrows, open your mouth and quickly turn your head to look at me, exclaiming "That's not nice!" Wanting me to join you in proudly standing up for the person who's being wronged.

You're remarkably kind and gentle with babies and other children. You met a five-month-old baby the other day and you 'coochie coochie cooed' her immediately. You were overcome with excitement when we placed her on your lap. You sweetly, softly caressed her cheek, smiling with your face close to hers. And when we got in the car to leave, you said "That baby Caleese sure is cute!"

You remember family; and seem to understand how important family is, even at such a young age. You've only met your Uncle Ryan and Aunt Brittany a few times. But you know who they are and that their son is Greyson and you even remember their newest baby's name, even though Lachlan is just a few months old. You run to greet Grammy and Gramps when they come to visit, even though you only see them a handful of times a year. You can recite the names of all of your cousins; your aunts, your uncles.



You've taken to talking to your Grandma on the phone for hours at a time. You amble around the house, just like I do when I'm on the phone. You have full blown conversations. You ask her to read you stories on the phone. You laugh at her jokes. Sometimes you even ask her to sing you to sleep over the phone.

You miss your Grandma terribly when she leaves. You cried ... sobbed ...as I put you to bed the other night, because Grandma was here for the weekend and you missed her when she left.

You put your own clothes and shoes on in the morning. And without me even asking, you sit down at the door and take them off before you come in the house after playing outside. When I greet you in the morning, you sometimes now are the first to ask me "Did you have a good sleep, mommy?"

You can entertain yourself for hours, playing with your doll house or your babies; your Snow White and Cinderella dolls, your magnetic paper dolls or your Littlest Pet Shop. You're such an organized little player. You line them all up in rows; you put your babies in bed time and again. You have entire conversations with yourself, playing multiple characters in made up stories.

You curtsy and twirl and dance around the house...the park....everywhere. I think you're constantly imagining yourself in a princess movie, as the lead character. You dress yourself up in a dozen fairy and princess outfits a day, and I swear Disney would create a princess character based on you, if the head honchos there were ever to meet you.



You sit down for breakfast, lunch and dinner the first time I ask. You put your plate in the sink. You can drink out of a grown up cup without a lid. You can write your name, and can pick out many different letters by sight, and almost count to 20. You can recite from memory the lines from your favorite books -- Madeline and Poodleena Pompadour and the Hungry Mouse. And, after hearing a story just once or twice, you can page through the book and re-tell the story. Your reading comprehension is amazing.

You no longer say "missed you all day, daddy," when he comes in the door, but you do still run to greet your daddy, shrieking "Daddy Daddy" all the way to the door. You still sleep with poodle, bring him down to breakfast, and carry him under your arm as you play in the backyard, swing, go down the slide and play in your playhouse.

You are such a joy. Such a gift. I miss you as a baby, already; even as I love seeing your personality and soul blossom every day. I'd say you're my dream come true, little girl. But the truth is, never in my wildest dreams could I ever have imagined anything as magical and beautiful and life- changing as you.

I love you, Ella Bella Drue. I love you, my 'little big girl.' I love you.

Mommy