Olive is Two

I

My Sweet Olive,

You were just a smooshie squashie newborn, and I blinked. Now you are turning two years old. I can’t even believe it. You bring so much joy and laughter to our family, so I don’t even know what we did without you!

I want you to always know just how special you are and have always been, so this little note can be a reminder (sorry it’s open to the public… if you end up being a super private lady).

You love shoes and drums and cats and coffee and stickers.Those five things could consume your day. You change shoes like a runway model changing clothes. One trip down the hallway is enough and your ready for the next ones. You like drumming, whether on an actual drum, or the table, or your leg. You also hum when you’re thinking, and it’s the cutest thing ever. Kitties are definitely your favorite animals and you currently have an imaginary one that you feed and pet and play with. You like Mommy’s “cossee” and you pretend to drink several cups a day. You have about 20,000 stickers to choose from (people, bugs, cartoon characters, food, etc.) I don't think you care what the sticker is of, you just want to stick them all on top of each other and color them.

You call Georgia “Owwiiee”. If I tell you, “No, you’re Ollie. That’s Georgia,” then you will call her “Dorge” exactly one time before going back to calling her your own name. It works for now, and I can’t say too much because I call you by the wrong names all the time too.

You are a great helper and love to have jobs to do.  Yesterday, you helped me pull weeds in the garden. Today, you cleaned the coffee table after you ate there. You deliver things to your sissy when she isn’t close enough to get them herself (Even cookies! Now that’s some self-control!).

You have very few fears. One of them is big heights (like the top of the chick-fil-a play place). But once you climb high, you believe that the only way down is to jump. You love animals and people (old and brand new). You love to explore and try new things. You love salad and broccoli and apples and plain bread. You love to be outside; riding the lawn mower, swinging, sliding, spying on the neighbors, or running away from anyone trying to get you to go inside.

You’ve recently become a bit more of a drama queen. You insist on picking out your own clothes, and usually that doesn’t involve any pants.  You hate the stroller and you will let everyone in a mile radius know that.  You are a social butterfly, and expecting you to sit down at a restaurant and eat would be hindering your need to greet every diner there. When you get mad, you get really mad, like the cry-so-violently-you-throw-up kind of mad. That’s usually when I can’t understand what you want. I’m sorry about that, but it’s getting easier.

We had a few scares this year. I never knew how terrifying it could be having kids until I had to think about the possibility of you not being in perfect health.  So, we paid lots of money for a few doctors' appointments. And we were so thrilled and relieved to hear how healthy and cute and wild you are.

You are extremely attached to your blankie and paci. It’s going to be a long road to independence from these addictions. They have basically become two gross smelly growths, and even the two hours it takes to wash them is difficult for you.

Best of all, you are already producing fruits that I struggle with as a Christian. 

You are full of patience. Every single morning, you listen to your sister yell at you to wake up and join her in a morning cry, but you just cover your head and wait patiently for Mommy or Daddy. You then wait quietly for her to get picked up and held and changed first. When I turn to get you, I see a big smile on your little round face. You spend the day sharing and waiting your turn and giving up whatever your sissy wants, unless it's a special pair of shoes.

You love fiercely. You give tight hugs, with a sweet little pat on the back. You give big slobbery kisses, while looking your kissee right in the eyes. You want to make sure everyone is “akay” and you have a way of knowing when they’re not and trying to make them feel better. You say Mommy, Daddy, Juwie, or Owwiie about 300 times per minute when someone isn’t responding fast enough to your side of the conversation.

You are joyful. Your sneaky little grin, big surprised eyes, and busy little hands just brighten all my days. You love nothing more than to play rough, get dizzy, and do gymnastics (you mastered a somersault in the bounce house at your birthday party). You are tough for sure. Just tonight, as you were about to get in the bathtub, you ran across the bathroom. You tripped and fell, hitting your head pretty hard against the door. Daddy and I waited for your reaction… after about 10 seconds, you laughed and said, “Too fast.” You just get up, laugh it off, and keep going every time.

You are incredibly forgiving. You forget so quickly when you have been pushed down, taken from, yelled at and even bitten.  You just go right back to loving and sharing and laughing. I must admit, sometimes I worry you are too easily pushed around, and I tell you to fight back. You rarely listen. You'd rather move on in peace.

You’ve not been a big talker until recently. The doctor said that you were so easy   going that you didn’t have to talk because Georgia did it all for you, and you could just sit back and relax. That's sounds about right. Now, you are spouting off words and sentences that I didn’t even realize you knew. Here are a few of you favorite things to say:

Stinky shoes

Party shoes

Go for a ride

Play place

Come here, kitty cat

Good Boy (to Flint, your puppa)

Want some, pwease.

Broconee (broccoli)

Dank Youwa (repeated over and over as many times as you say “You’re welcome”)

Go owwwside

You are such a blessing to me, your daddy, your sister, and everyone who knows you. Thank you for being my forever baby. And no, you cannot ever give up that role in my life! Sorry. 

I love more than you can possibly know (until you have kids. Then you will probably know how gut wrenching and heart melting this kind of love is).

Yours, forever and ever,

Mommy