Note: My new job is very strict about Internet usage, so I handwrote this at work at lunch one day and didn't get around to posting until today. It was written in mid-December.
Dear Periwinkle,
I'm sorry it's taken me this long to write your letter. I fully meant to do it by your birthday, but then there were parties and Halloween and friend birthday parties and Thanksgiving and my birthday (thanks for the birthday wishes, but you can stop now), and now here we are, ten days from Christmas. I'm sorry, and I love you, and I do hope you forgive me someday.
In any event, here we are. You are nearly 26 months old, going on at least ten years old. You are an excellent mimic, with the correct inflection, and hearing my words coming out of your mouth is both hilarious and terrifying. Thankfully, the worst you've repeated is "dammit." Repeatedly. What is perhaps most scary is that you remember everything, and weeks later you'll bring out, "What are you talking about, Mommy?" with the perfect note of exasperation, or, "silly goose" which I really don't think I've called you for months now.
You love waking your brother up when you are the first one up. First we do some snuggles though. Then we give you permission and you bolt into your room to wake him, all smiles and gentle "Wake up, Inno!" and then some shrieking to make sure he really gets the message. Sometimes you try to wake him at night too, when he is asleep and you are still trying to preserve the resistance. You get this sneaky glint in your eye and then take off for your room. I usually catch you in time.
We are constantly getting notes home from school about how you hug your brother and friends when they are upset and you ask them if they are okay. You are such a sweet and caring girl - Mommy Peri, they call you. I was Momma Red in college, so it's fitting, I suppose. Always care for your friends, and especially for your brother. It will always be appreciated in this world!
You are very opinionated about what you wear now. Your socks must be pink. Anything slightly resembling blue is deemed to belong to your brother. You prefer shirts that have rosettes or bows. I can sometimes get you excited about your Supergirl shirt, and red stars are permitted if we call them Wonder Woman socks. Sometimes we do great battle. Sometimes you are okay picking between two items, since it is your choice. Sometimes I am tempted to just leave you in your pjs (I did once).
You love penguins these days, and a little figure of Dora the Explorer's mom you found at Nonna and Nonno's house that you call Little Mommy. You say it looks like me. I am apparently made of plastic and love purple. I'm pretty sure you think Santa Claus is the coolest guy in the world, and you don't even know he brings you presents yet! You love seeing "mismas lights" outside the car, and you sing a pretty good Jingle Bells. You are also getting really good at singing Frere Jacques and the ABCs, although QRSTUV are starting to take it personally that you always skip them.
In short, you are curious, caring, smart, and strong-willed, all important traits to have as a young lady these days. I have little doubt that you'll be able to hold your own as you grow up. I'm so proud of the person you are becoming. Just don't repeat everything I say, okay? And for that matter, stop saying "Okay?" at the end of every sentence. You're only two, okay?
Love,
Mama
Addendum: it's amazing how much has changed since I wrote this, although she still asks for Christmas lights and thinks Santa should bring her more presents.
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