2.8

To my Greta Maeve...at two years and eight months.

You love garlic edamame. You call it "mermaid". Sometimes, we get sushi on Friday and we cannot get the edamame out of the pods fast enough for you. You devour the whole bowl.

Any time you paint or color or draw, you must have one paintbrush, crayon, or pen in each hand. Always multitasking, my darling.

We went on an egg hunt this year. Just you and me. Estella and Daddy weren't feeling well. You didn't want to go near the Easter bunny...and that was ok. They had the smallest petting zoo I ever did see and you loved to pet the ducks, but refused to pet the pig, sheep, goats, or donkey.

With the couple chocolate coins from St. Patrick's Day and treats in your Easter basket, you are completely obsessed with chocolate. You ask for a treat all the time. I do not give you many sweets. Daddy got you your very first root beer float when we were at the zoo and you acted like a crazy person for the rest of the day. So...maybe that can be a once a year type of thing. Soda, that is.

You always want to help. I try to oblige. Sigh...it's just hard because you want to help with EVERYTHING and then stuff takes twice as long to do, but you're learning to do things for yourself and that makes me oh so happy. You sometimes make our coffee in the morning. In the beginning, it had a lot of coffee grounds in it, but you have gotten very good at scooping them into the filter.

Tackling stairs has never been your strong suit. You fell down quite a few when you first learned how to walk and ever since then, you were never very good at going down stairs. Perhaps I instilled a bit of a fear in you, too. I just didn't want you to fall again because every single time I let you go down the stairs without holding my hand...you fell. But, you have overcome that. Now, you hop down stairs. Every so often, you hop too far and fall, but you are usually quick to regain your composure and laugh nervously as you say, "Hahaha. I ok."

You love your sister so much. You are such a little mama to her. "I hear Stella. She's up! I go get her! C'mon, Mama!" You like to sing her to sleep. You've been asking to hold her again. You will get your little chair and climb into her little crib and when I angrily ask you to get out please for fear of you breaking the friggin' little crib, my heart melts a little bit and I can't help but smile.

You also push your sister quite a bit. I feel like the more I talk about it and ask you not to do it, the more you do it. I react. I do. I really can't help it sometimes. When I see my babies hurt, I react and I know I shouldn't. (It's usually not that bad.) Even YOU remind me of this...when you spill your water for the umpteenth time in a day..."It's otay, mama. We clean it up. It's just water." You are right, Greta. You are so very right. Deep breaths. Often.

You have been waking in the night, screaming. And then calling for us to come and get you. Every now and then, all four of us are in our queen size bed...feet in face and all. I miss sleep. So so much. But I love you and I know you can't fully express yourself yet. So, if you are scared. I am here. I will always be here for you, Greta. Your daddy, too. Because, who are we kidding? I usually hear you wake up, but have your sister on my boob and so Daddy goes in and calms you down and puts you back to sleep.

You also refuse to take naps. And that. just. sucks. for. everybody.