She's two.
She's "Pipey Ewizabeff."
She talks in complete sentences. ("Wook mom! I see an Amewican fwag!")
She tells me when she's "fwustwated."
She uses the big girl potty and keeps her undies dry all day (minus that darn #2).
She sings vibrant versions of "twinkle twinkle" and the "ABCs" and just about any other song you can think of.
She points out "corns" fields and beans and wheat when we drive past.
She loves all things her big sister is doing, but is very much of an individual and thrives on her own as well.
She loves to play with other kids in just about any situation, and her once terrible church nursery anxiety seems to be completely gone.
She still loooooves her pacis. But only gets them when sleeping.
She is an absolute monkey climber and jumps off of everything. Everything.
She hits when she's mad. And if we haven't caught it and put her in timeout, she puts herself in timeout and fake cries.
She loves a good snuggle and a rockabye when she can't sleep.
She's sleeping in a big girl bed, sharing a room with Emberly (as of two nights ago) and rocks it.
And I just can't quite believe she's not a baby anymore.
