First Born

So as not to forget about that other daughter who used to be the center of attention and now...still is (partly because of the incessant screaming that has permanently damaged my right ear), let us bask in the right now of an almost two-year-old...

Recently she's been bitten hard by the fashion bug. Yesterday it took me from breakfast until dinner to fold a load of laundry because apparently everything she owns is her absolute favorite and HAS TO BE ON HER BODY RIGHT THIS SECOND. Pink bathing suit: 'I LOVE THIS ONE!'. Dress that Sina and Julia brought her back from Sweden: 'SINAJUJUDRESS! WEAR IT!!!' Polkadot shirt: 'POKAPOTS!!!!! I am most definitely not exaggerating when I say that she wore every single dress she currently owns in the space of a couple hours, experimenting with the twirl effect and the freedom of pantlessness. With warm weather upon us, she still cannot get over that she does not have to wear pants, and so this fact must be commented on regularly. Shoes and diapers suddenly seem so superfluous as well. Actually, shoes in the car, store, outside in general: superfluous. Shoes on the bed: vital.





Warm weather is also playground weather. After putting on her socks, finding her jacket, removing her socks, and putting on her shoes, she inevitably appears at my side, declaring, "Mommy, I ready park!"

Her second birthday is coming up next week and we've been talking about it for weeks now. When asked what she wants to do for her birthday she will inform you that a purple cake is in order. And of course the obligatory singing of 'Happy to you.'

She has a family of Little People that have seen significantly more action as we launch into the magical world of imaginary play. Baby Lilac can occasionally be found pressing her hard plastic lips to Samaya's chest just before being chucked across the room. ('All done!') The four are referred to as friends and are often required to join her at the dinner table. They line up obediently and offer words of encouragement and commentary on the meal.

Her first true love of an inanimate object is her baby doll, who was a big sister gift from her good friend Asher. Chaltu (so named by Daddy) is carried in the sling, nursed ('other side?'), fed, burped, changed, and read to. It is so fun to watch all the tiny nuances she picks up on in our care for Violet.



I'm just now realizing that she might just be the messiest child in the universe, and only because we've been spending time with an insanely tidy two-year-old who actually manages to eat watermelon without dripping any on her clothes. Which can't be normal. Between the wardrobe obsession and the after-every-meal clothes change, and the cloth diapers, and the water play, and the infant...yeah...um, thanks Laundry Boy. I mean, Dear Husband of Mine.



The sweet, sweet sister love going on over here is enough to keep my heart in a permanent state of puddle. Violet is the first she seeks out in the morning, the most frequent recipient of her hugs and kisses, and a devoted audience to many a song and dance. Over the past few weeks, we've transitioned from 'Baby' to 'Whylet', indicating that the baby who showed up one day in her own Mama's arms with a shock of black hair has permanently set up shop as Samaya's adored sister, playmate, friend.



Her repertoire of all things scary includes beards, traffic, shadows, flying insects, seagulls, and waves. Spiders and thunder have recently been crossed off seeing as how one has a cute song and the other signals rain. Which signals a refreshing shower under the gutter, puddle jumping, and collecting rain in upturned umbrellas (obviously).







Now if I can only remember how darn cute she is tomorrow when she's breaking my one remaining ear drum...