Thursday, December 11, 2014

Now She Is Two

Dear, dear Norah,

Today you are two!

You are my little dawn-treader. I hear you up at four in the morning, and I nudge your dad so he can try yet again to comfort you back to sleep. I know deep down that I will soon find my way to your side. I never can resist it when you say, "Mama...nuuussss!" This morning when I snuggled in with you, I marvelled at your size. I remember when your entire length could curl up against my ribs, and now your feet nudge my thighs as you drink. You have your fill then say, "Mmm...miwt". You still think nursing is the best. Sometimes I wish you'd voluntarily wean so that I could get more than six hours of sleep a night, but mostly I'm so grateful to still have this quiet time with you.

You toss and fuss until I surrender, and we descend the stairs by the light of the moon. You look like a hairy beast. We cuddle up on the kitchen couch with a pile of your favourite books. You happily flip pages while I put on the coffee. When it's time to get the big kids up, you climb the stairs with all your strength and energy. You call them by name, climb on their heads, and somehow they are never cross. You have delighted them since you were born and the romance has never faded.

This morning we took a bath together before everyone else got up. I remembered the night of your birth, how I returned from an acupuncture session and had a candlelit bath. I ate two bowls of this chili, and before I could believe it, realised I was in full on labour. Your arrival was swift and thankfully there were extra women on hand to guide your birth into this world. This morning, you poured water on my head, said, "I need dat bup", and yelled while I washed your hair. You washed your own tummy and squiggled your fingers in your belly button. I just watched you and loved you with all my heart.

You were born the youngest in a family of four, born into the clamour and mess, yelling and chasing that is part of every large family. You just fit right in, yelling and chasing to keep up with the older ones. You are definitely two, loudly demanding "Mine!" and stamping your feet to let us know you are displeased. You are adamant about "no biaper" and sometimes make it to the potty in time. You put "b" in front of most words: sheep=beep, lips=bips, cup=bup, and hilariously, soup=boop. 

We love you so very much. We are so thankful you're here. Tonight we'll celebrate with spaghetti, cupcakes, and a few little gifts. We might put up our Christmas tree, too. We know you're going to love the lights, sparkles, and excitement that surround us at this season.

You were and still are the best Christmas gift I ever received.