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.