Brooklyn two years 5 months

Dear Brooklyn,
Since I haven't written in your baby book since this time... TWO years ago... I thought it is time I should update you on... well... YOU. Today you are two years and five months old. (EASY for me to know since Brighton just turned five months and ya'll are two days apart). You keep me young AND make me gray (not that I'll actually ever know when a gray hair comes in since I dye my hair dark brown... but I can just FEEL it happening).

I could write a BOOK on you DAILY because you never stop talking, singing, dancing, and yelling, "MOMM-MMAAY!!" (And I mean that. You never stop. NOT even when you are sleeping. You sleep talk. AND I would know since you STILL sleep in my bed). So I'm really trying to narrow down my thoughts to the essentials.

When you are all big and THREE, you'll probably be interested in knowing when you were potty trained. WELL... You are Potty Trained NOW... but I supposed its been about a month with no "ax-ta-dents." You've been out of diapers since before you turned two... but you were pretty much using your panties AS diapers and I felt like I had an extra puppy in the house. (I even contemplated sticking your nose in your pee a couple of times.. BUT I didn't). I guess you just decided to be done peeing in your panties one day. I don't know if it had anything to do with me making YOU clean up your pee (by putting a paper towel on the floor and using your BARE hands to mop it up to your utter chagrin and HORROR) OR Daddy's method: bribary. EVERY time you peed in the potty you got a CHOCOLATE. AND even now that you are POTTY trained and pee in the toilet some SIXTEEN times a DAY, you say, "OH! I need to go potty and get a kitty-kat!!" which means you want a kit-kat and you know if you go drip a few urine drops in the toilet, your Daddy HAS to give you one because it is the rule HE set. (AGAINST my better judgement). BUT- you don't expect me to give you one. Its funny how you just KNOW Daddy is a sucker. As soon as he walks in the door from work you RUN up and say, "OH DADDY! I pee pee in the potty and get a kitty kat!!!" Sorry I didn't write down the EXACT day you were trained... BUT in my defense- I thought you were potty trained like a hundred times and then you'd just start marking your territory like a dog again. AND you were bush-trained before you were "potty" trained and so I didn't know if that counted or not. You still enjoy peeing outside more than inside BUT your daddy is mortified by his daughter stripping down to her birthday suit and running outside to pee in a bush in front of the neighbors. Eh. It doesn't bother me any.

MOVIES: Your favorite movies right now are Pinochio, Robin Hood, and Jungle Book. Those just HAPPEN to be your DADDY's favorite movies right now, too... (funny how THAT works, huh?) You still watch exorbitant amounts of Dora and Diego, Gabba Gabba, and Barney, and some Your Baby Can Read, but those couple Disney Movies are your FAVS. You sing the songs of Pinochio NON-STOP. AND it is ADORABLE. You walk around saying, "I'm a REAL BOY!" and I have to remind you that even though you DO pee on bushes, you are ACTUALLY a girl.

FOOD: Your favorite foods include, but are not limited to: Spagetti O's, eggs, green beans, tomatoes, cornbread, pretzels, and CANDY. AND your favorite BEVERAGE is CHOCOLATE MILK. You'll eat just about anything, save it be CORN (MY favorite food), but pretty much every morning when I say, "Are you hungry?" You say, "MOM! I'm so hungry, I need some sPa-getti-os!" and for lunch. AND for dinner. AND since I CAN'T cook... you don't get told NO too often when you'd prefer something from a can. Some times at night you'll say, "Mommy... I jus want some beans." AND you will eat green beans out of a can. NO LIE. Last night I made cornbread to go with some INTERESTING concoction from the crock-pot... beef stew. ish. ANYWAY- you sat on the counter and ate cornbread until every crease on your body had crumbs in it... when I pulled down your panties for you to go pee- CORNBREAD crumbs were flopping everywhere.

When I eat a sandwich you ALWAYS ask for my tomato. You eat it plain. AND you still drink chocolate milk like a camel drinks water. LIKE you are stocking up for a walk in the desert. You HAVE to have it every night before you go to bed and you always say, "MOMMY... can you feed it to me?" Even though you are little Miss Independant, you still want to be the baby in a lot of ways.

Tantrums: The Years of the TWO are known for the tantrums. FAMOUS Terrible TWOS! So are you terrible? Well- not in comparison to ME as a child (I think I was referred to by your grandparents as Satan's spawn), I suppose, but you DEFINITELY have your MOMENTS. (And those momments are the reason for the GRAYS I refered to earlier). For MOST of the day you are the SWEETEST most ADORABLe child walking around in human form. BUT. RIGHT around nap time, OR when you wake up from a LATE nap, the WHINEY attacks you and nabs your Big Girl voice. And its WRETCHED. You stand in one spot bouncing up and down like a restricted Tigger chanting, "I want Mommy, I want Mommy, I want Mommy" without taking a breath. And when I say, "Okay... I'm right here," you go to high stepping (still in one spot) and chanting louder and faster. I can sit RIGHT in front of you and hold out my arms. Your arms, which are straight out to be held, do not MOVE. You won't walk forward. You won't TALK. You won't COME when I do my normal countdown. Its like you are in a TRANCE WHILE standing on a magnetic forefield that restricts your movement. I've spanked you. I've put you in time out. BUT, like me when I was your age (and before and after your age)you can carry on indefinitely. ALL night. OR I can just pick you up and get you distracted and you somehow will get HAPPY again and announce gleefully, "MOMMY!! I found my BIG GIRL VOICE!! THAT makes me giggle!" and you will proceed to giggle and chirp like a spring blue bird learning to fly. Its the darndest thing. Daddy and I just look at each other and inwardly say to each others brains, "Coo-coo!" Hmm. When I write it out, it seems like I would avoid the hour of earth shattering SCREAMING that comes from putting you time-out and just distract you in the beginning. Its a pride thing. I need to work on that.

CHATTER BOX: Some of my FAVORITE things you say is, "Mommay! Can I please have a Peanut Butter and Jelly and a Sandwich?!" And, "Mommy! What are you doing? Are you going PEE PEE in tha potty? Oh that's a great job, Mommy! That's just great!" AND "You think so, I can get a jelly rancher?" (jolly rancher) "You think so, Boston is coming to my house to play with me today?", "Mommy! I need to color... Let me get my stoop!" (which means you want the HIGHLIGHTERS from the drawer you are NOT supposed to go snooping in and you need your stool to reach.

We had dinner with the missionaries and Daddy was yapping about Pinnochio. He quoted, "You see that guy over there? That's temptation." And before he could finish, "Oh NO, Gemini, that's Honest JOHn!" you cut in. "NO Daddy... You JUST need a LITTLE bit of Patience. Just a little patience." And you had your little finger pointed at him. AND you mimicked me to a tee. (I say that phrase to you about a thousand times a day as you ask for chocolate milk. You manage to ask four or five times between my arm reaching for the fridge and the fridge door opening). You tell us, yourself, Charkley, and your Barbies to have "patience."

You also say, EVERYTIME something goes awry, "WHAT are you KIDDING me!" (instead of You've GOT to be KIDDING me- WHICH I say- a LOT).

Several things have interesting names when translated into your verbage. My eyes bulged out of my head when you started singing, "There's some CRAPS. I found a Red Crap." and then, "Mommy where's the crap go?" I've learned to figure out WHAT you are talking about before I chastise and tell you that we do NOT SAY CRAP! (except we DO of course... EVERYtime I want to shout something worse- the word CRAP riverbrates through the house. Like when I drop the bag of flour and the whole kitchen turns white, or I walk SLAM INto a doorway instead of THROUGH the doorway....). ANYWAY- come to find OUT- You call CRABS, craps. AND everytime we read a book that has a crab in it (which is in more books than you'd think- practically every book depicting a beach) you say, "CRAP! There's a crap!"

You say, "What is tha heck?" when you get frustrated and confused usually trying to untangle something that you shouldn't have tangled in the first place. (LiKE the pully on the blinds or the computer cords).

The Magnolia cone things that look similar to pine combs are MICROPHONES. AND when you announce that it is time to go ride in that wagon, we FIRST have to grab a couple microphones off the ground so we can sing in them at the top of our lungs WHILE walking through the neighborhood. (I try to take you walking when most neighbors are at work, but INEVITABLY SOMEONE will ALWAYS be on their porch).

Attitude: It is hilARIOUS to see your little personality blooming and how you interact with others. You have a NEW facial expression that I can only describe as a Teenager Face... Its an expression of total ATTITUDE, not disrespectful but... kind of like a "DUH- MOM- REALLY? You're telling me that AGAIN?" And you do it when 'I' do something you think is really DUMB. You make the expression and say something like, "Mommy? Did you make a mess in my room?" (and I had to say, "yeh.. sorry.." because I had $108 dollars worth of tull scattered ALL over your room AND ribbon...(not included in the $108 I've given to Hobby Lobby) because I've been busily making tu tu's. or "Mommy, why you taked that taped measure away from ME?" (except you say it with more attitude and instead of me you say MAE). You are full of repetition. "Mommy, I am sharing with Bry Bry because its so nice to share." "Mommy! I be nice to Taelyn because Taelyn is my FRIEND." "Brooklyn, you don't cry, okay? Jus.. Jus lets be happy!"

Manners: You say Please ("Mommy can you please wash my hands.") , Thank You so MUCH, You're so Welcome, You're so SWEET Mommy!, You're so CUTE, Daddy!, I LOVE you little Chunkter MAN!(to Bry Bry) at least ten times a day. You also say things like, "OH YOU BROUGHT me a SURPRISE?!?! THANK YOU SOOOOOOOOOO MUCH!! I LOOOOOVE IT!!!" (That was the reaction I got yesterday when I brought you donuts for breakfast). And when Daddy and I recieve a gift from you- (either a colored picture, a piece of paper you've folded into a 'letter,' or the present box that is in your toys that you put random toys in and give to us repeatedly) and we say, "OH THANK YOU, BROOKLYN! THAT is SOOO SWEET!!" you GLOW with happiness and say, "OH MOMMY! (or Daddy) You are SOOO WELCOME! I LOVE YOu! I'm jus so HAPPY!" and when people tell you that you are so cute, you shyly say, "Yeah..." (We're working on THAT). Today I told you that you are beautiful and you said in your 'silly voice', "NO I'm NO-yot! I'm BROOK-LYN!"

SISTER: As a sister, you are INCREDIBLE! Brighton could NOT ask for a better one. You kiss him, love him, tell him he is SO cute, SO sweet, make him laugh, fetch him toys, burp rags, etc. You sing to him, you run to him when he makes any noise yelling, "OH MOMMY! It sounds like Bry Bry! He's in trouble! I haf to rescue him!!" And off you go! You ask to hold him and you'll sing to him for the WHOLE 45 seconds he's on your lap, THEN you'll grunt, "OKAY, MOMMy! I'm ALL done holding BRY BRY!" (He's as big as you are and feels HEAVIER)!

FRIENDS:You LOVE your friends. Some of your favorite friends right now are Boston, Layla, Alayna, Colton, Sarah, Jayden, and Taelyn. I'm sure I'm leaving some out but those are some of the kids you've played with in the last week. Yesterday Boston and you were sitting at the counter eating spagetti-o's and you looked over at him and said, "Boston, what are you gonna marry?" (Yeh. WHAT not WHO). He said, "YOU." You beamed from ear to ear and started giggling like a hyped up hyena. "And I'm gonna MARRY you in THE TEMPLE." He added.

ANIMALS: You ADORE animals. (You aren't as nice to them as Boston is- but you WANT to be..). You really liked Frankie's pet rat so I got you a rabbit. Cleo and you were the best of friends and you'd sit in the laundry room holding her and singing to her, sticking stickers on her house (aka my Laundry Basket), and feeding her carrots and apples. You surely loved her. AND then I let her outside to play and she got attacked by a cat. THEN you nursed her and were so soft to her for a whole week until she died. (Lucky for you, you were at your MIA's house and MISSED your blubbering, sobbing, guilt ridden mother watching the rabbit die). When you came home and went to looking for her, I had to tell you the bad news. "You know how Cleo was so sick?" You nodded. "WELL, she just got so sick that she went to live with Jesus so that He could make her all better. And she isn't sick anymore! Now she's hopping around with Jesus!" You nodded and smiled. "She's with JESUS!" and then you paused, "Well, but I don't want her to live with Jesus. I want her to live in my laundry room." So DADDY explained it to you. "Uh... maybe Jesus will give you another bunny." THANKS DADDY. So I took you looking for one at the pet store. They had two big ones that TORE me UP with their kicking and toe nails. I decided Cleo was one of a kind. AND I just didn't know what I'd do if I got another inside bunny and it wasn't perfect like our Cleo. LUCKILY you didn't care for the bunnies either. You said, "Um... We just need to find a bunny like Cleo. Those are nice BUNNY PIGS!" (Guinnie pigs). Yeah. Not happening. So I took you to your Aunt Nita's to play with her Bunnies, Cats, and Chickens. She offered you a bunny AND a kitten, but I didn't fold... (even though I would've if she would've pushed any harder). I wanted to talk to your Daddy about it first. NOW, everytime we walk into the laundry room OR you see a bunny on a cartoon, you say, "Cleo is jus with Hebenly Father and Jesus. But Mommy, we jus need to find a bunny like Cleo."

You are taking a bigger interest in our cat and Charkley. The cat scratches (trying to play, but she's pretty rough) so you only pet her until she grabs your arm. THEN your done. CHARKLEY and you are pretty close. You throw him his ball, play chase, and hug on him. You also like to share your snacks with him. You always grab him and start giggling and say something about, "Charkley wants to play freeze." I don't have a CLUE what game that IS, but Charkley dOES NOT like it.

Today you held a lizard for a long time while you rode in the wagon. You wanted to bring it inside to live with you. AND when I FINALLY pried it out of your fingers it was BARELY breathing. LITTLE squeezer, you are. THAT's why I'm worried about getting you another rabbit... They are so FRAGILe... of course most things that get attacked by a ravenous CAT would get hurt... but still...

SPORTS: You REALLY like sports. You ALWAYS want to go watch your Daddy play Tennis, baseball, Volleyball, etc. You even like Football games. You, of course, always want to play TOO, and so I get to be the mean guy that says, "Sorry, honey... you have to stay OFF the court (or field)." AND then I get to play whatever sport on the side lines with you. You like cheering at the football games with whatever pom poms you can find laying around.

BARBIES: I've waited FOREVER for you to be big enough to play with barbies. (I LOVED them when I was younger). So I brought you some home from Mia's house. You play with the GI Joe dude and two of the boy dolls. Of course. OCCASSIONALLY you'll play with a couple of the little girl ones. Last time I walked in THIS is what I see: You holding GI Joe Barbie talking in a Man Voice (which sounds like a scratchy constipated grunt) saying, "Stop crying or you hafta go to time out" and the little blond headed Kelly doll (about 2 years old I'd say) says, VERY whiney, "Nooo." AND so she got dumped in time out, WHICH is the little crib. (I am about to KILL OVER- in silence of course- because you are mimicking your Daddy perfectly- good to know you see him as a GI Joe instead of a Ken Doll-HILARIOUSLY incorrect, but good to know). What does the little girl do? OH she stars BOUNCING up and down like a toy on a spring chanting, "I want Daddy, I want Daddy, I want Daddy." AND what does the Daddy do? He grunts very softly (Starling doesn't grunt by the way... BUT Brooklyn has a hard time talking manly and human at the same time) "Can you stop crying? Say, Yes Sir." The baby said Yes Sir in whisper form and the Daddy picked her up and said, "You wanna play the guit-TAR?!" AND, in your squeaky baby voice, you said, "YE-EAH!! I found my big girl voice!" I TOTALLY know now why Child Play Therapy is so telling. Although you mostly play with the Daddy and NOT a MOMMY even though I am the one with you ALL day EVERY day. HMPH.

LOVED: You should know that you are the MOST love TWO year old on Earth. Daddy and I say the same thing EVERY night: "How did we get so blessed? We are so lucky to have SUCH sweet kids." And Daddy says, "Brooklyn is the cutest thing." "Brooklyn is so adorable." "Brooklyn is precious." From the time he walks in from work from the time we go to BED, from the time you WAKE up in the middle of the night sleep talking and or screaming, to the time he leaves in the morning. You have a Mi Mi and Pa Paw, a Mia and Pi Paw, a Maw Maw and Paw Paw, and a Grandma Rosie that LOVE and ADORE you plus all the rest of your family, aunts, uncles, cousins, and church family. One of your nursery leaders, Sister McLaine, told me that you are such a leader. She said you sweetly lead others without being bossy. ((Now 'I' have seen you be bossy! But I'm glad to know you can be very sweet when I'm not around). She told me that you say, "How bout we sing ASHEES ASHEES!" and that all the kids excitedly joined hands to do Ring Around the Rosies. That makes a Ma Ma proud! And for the most part, you are VERY nice and sweet to others. (Every now and again that two year old tantrum will come out, but we're all understanding of THAT. Mommy throws worse tantrums than YOU ever have)! We are SOOO glad to have you in our family and SOOO thankful that we have been sealed to you for Time and Eternity. I would NEVER EVER want to be without my Brook Brook!

LOVE,
Mommy