Not-So-Terrible Two

Even saying that I have a two-year old feels strange in my mouth. But alas! it's true. Bryony turned two years old on her first day of school, and she has flourished and thrived ever since. All my worries that her development might be stunted by the trauma of being separated from her dad have been put aside. She is a mighty, mighty two year old and I feel so incredibly lucky to be a witness to her progress. Oh, and nothing about her is stunted. She's three feet tall at barely two years old.

I've started a little tradition of Friday date night with Bryony, taking her out to local restaurants to just spend some quality time together, catching up on her day and learning new things about her. Two weeks ago, we went for to our favorite Lansing Thai restaurant, Bangkok House. Last week, she was the classiest of little ladies at our favorite Indian restaurant, Sindhu. Tonight, we went to Altu's, the Ethiopian restaurant that serves up de-lish vegetarian fare with ample sides of injira bread. In the course of our little "dates," I've found that my daughter is growing and changing before my very eyes. She knows how to properly use a napkin--place it neatly in her lap--and wipe face and hands when necessary. She enjoys trying new foods, even exotic spicy foods, and she LOVES Indian (just like her mama). Tonight, upon asking for more bread (signing "more" with both hands in true American Sign Language), I told her she'd have to eat more of her veggies first. While she wasn't thrilled, she scooped up her spoon and played "airplane" with it, aiming the food-laden aircraft into the terminal, er, her mouth. I used to play that game with her many months ago, long enough ago that I wouldn't have expected her to remember. I can only assume that she plays the same game with the kids and teachers at school.

Bryony loves school. I'm not joking. She grabs my hand in the morning, pulling me out the door, saying over and over again, "Mama, GO! Ready!" If I dare spend five minutes fixing my lunch, I have to hear about it. "Mama, ready! No, Mama, go!" I make sure to turn the radio off on the three-minute drive to her school, trying to soak in as many last minutes with her as I can. Usually we sing songs, her favorites being Row, Row, Row Your Boat, Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star, The Itsy, Bitsy Spider, and Baby Shark. But once we step foot inside her school, it's over. My little girl becomes a bunch of other little toddlers' friend, and she has little time for me. I try to get last hugs and kisses from her before I leave for work, but she won't even look at me, so intent is she on her friends (and the breakfast the teachers are about to dish out!). Gone are the days of her shedding tears when I leave; now the only one wanting me to linger...is me.

She knows the names of all her schoolmates, and a few weeks ago her daily report said she patted a classmate's back until he fell asleep! The teachers thought that was incredibly cute (and so does her mama...). She can also identify all of my family members from photos and is starting to learn Daddy's side, too. She thinks that any present that she receives comes from "Shan-don," my sister Shannon. She knows that her best buddy Iselin loves airplanes, so everytime one passes overhead, Bryony points to the sky, calling out "Airplane! Airplane! Iselin!"

Bryony loves animals, especially our cats Greg House and Holiday. She says good-bye to them everytime we leave the house, and runs to them first thing when we return. Her teachers at school have told me on multiple occasions that Bryony loves the stuffed cat and dog toys in the classroom, and carries them around all day long. She can make most animal sounds, true to their actual sound (ie--she snorts like a pig rather than saying "oink").

I found a couple weeks ago that she can count to ten in both English and Spanish (although she skips four and five in English, and counts a bit out of order in Spanish). One day while ending a Skype session with Adam, she adamantly repeated, "Ah-yos!" It took me awhile to realize she was attempting to say "Adios!" to her dad as we bid him farewell.

She still dances and girates to just about every single piece of music she hears. Tonight at dinner, she was jiggling in her seat to Mellencamp's "Cherry Bomb," Heart's "Magic Man" and Smokey Robinson's "Tears of a Clown." As I've been watching the first season of Glee on DVD the last few weeks, I've seen my little girl go from tiny dancer to little voice. Watch out Rachel Berry...

But as fast as she's growing, she's still young enough to not completely grasp some concepts, like the fact that Daddy is moving from "the box" to real life. At first, I thought it would be fun to surprise her with Adam's arrival by having him pick her up from school with me one day. But I realized that at barely two years old, she has been through the ringer when it's come to moves and separations, and it wouldn't be fair to her to spring another change--good as it might be--on her while she's still so young. So instead, I've been casually saying things like, "It'll be great when Daddy's here to take you to school, right?" or "I can hardly wait to see Daddy give you big hugs!" She just looks at me skeptically and says, "No, Mama. Daddy. Box." Hey, I tried.

She gets into loads of trouble, have no doubt. Timeouts have become a familiar friend (to me) in our household and yes, they work! She hates being put in the corner, hates being forced to sit still, hates being ostracized while the world goes on around her. I set the timer on the oven and go about my business while she howls and wails. I tell her I can deal with a crying child, but I cannot deal with a disobedient one. She doesn't appreciate that statement, but that's okay.

Oh! One more thing! (and yes, I realize I'm going through the laundry list...). She has started using the potty! Well, the potty chair, but it's a start. Funny how this very rote necessity in adult life is such a monumentous occasion when it comes to our kids learning...but the idea of disposable diapers and diaper rash being a thing of the past is so incredibly motivating that I am hopping onboard the "potty chair" bandwagon and in the front seat. But, I know my kid enough to know that she will potty train in her own due time, not under my timeline. Stubborness. An inherited trait.

Oh, and she loves shoes. Her new favorite thing is to wear just a diaper and wedge heels. She's setting fashion trends for babies the world over.

There are so many things I'm forgetting to talk about, I know. She is growing so fast and is so fun and lovely, and time is passing by so quickly, I can hardly keep up. But, alas, here are a few nuggets about my wee bit who is tall and leggy and getting too big for me to still be calling baby.

You'll always be my baby, B.