Dear Gwennie Goo,
You are now twenty eight months old. This month was a busy one for us all, in fact last month was so busy that I forgot to even write your newsletter. With Christmas and everything going on the days went so swiftly by that it was mid January before I knew it!
Your independence grows daily, as you practice things and tell me that you can “do it by self,” or “I do it.” But then the next moment you are my little cuddlekins again and want to be a baby. I fed you oatmeal one morning, because you were my baby. I ask you if you are “my baby” but you almost always say “No, I Gennie Goo.” I admit that “Gennie Goo” is a sweet little nickname and I adore calling you that.
You astound people when you start talking. And you really like to talk. Sometimes I want you to stop, just for a moment because you and Rhayn together make a lot of noise.
I always see pictures of toddlers covered in food. I often see your big sister covered in food, like she has missed her mouth. You, on the other hand, are usually a dainty eater. Not that you don’t eat very much, food doesn’t always cover your face at the end of a meal. We were at a birthday party recently and there were two other kids (admittedly younger than you) who were also eating cupcakes. Their little pudgy faces were covered in icing, the little boy looked like he had a moustache of chocolate, the girl a beard of vanilla. You had a tiny dab on the end of your nose, but were otherwise clean. Your clothes are another story, often covered in lentil soup or hot chocolate. If it is not food, you love to coat your face in it. I have countless pictures of you painted a nice pink from lipstick or ethereal looking from shiny white eyeshadow. 
Bedtime is (knock on wood) no longer a struggle. We nurse (or as you put it “Hava gup in da tsair”) around seven and then cuddle and talk and play and usually watch a little television. Around 8:30 you are put to bed. Sometimes you cry a little and fuss about it, but you roll onto your side, cuddle your stuffed elephant and go to sleep. It is such a relief to me that sleep and going to bed is not the fight it used to be. This is going to make my life so much easier when Daddy is gone for the next while. I won’t be fighting with you, maybe I will even be able to get you to bed around 8 and have a bath with a nice book. I am totally going to need that since I won’t just be able to have Daddy watch you while I escape. I have tried letting Rhayn watch you, and it just doesn’t work, she is too easily distracted and forgets that she is the babysitter. Sometimes I think I expect more out of her than her nearly seven years are capable of.
This last weekend was your first away from me. You were fine; I on the other hand was a little worked up about it. I worried but your Grandma reassured me that you would be OK, you would not die or anything and you would still love me best of all. Alright, she didn’t reassure me of that, I added that because it makes me feel better to think that you love me best of all (you like gup best of all.)
If it were up to you we wouldn’t come home. You don’t want to most of the time. We round that corner towards our house and you scream “I don’t wanna go a house!” In a way it is cute, but mostly it is irritating, really irritating. You easily fall into a deep slumber in the car, and it is totally my saving grace some days.
Remember Care-Bear? Well I do, and you are at the stage she was at when I started watching her. That means quite a bit of the silly things you do are similar to the annoying things she did. I have to constantly remind myself that it is normal two year old behavior. I have to consciously not allow myself to become upset at you because you growled at me like she used to. I think that watching her was the worst thing I have ever had to do in my life. She really destroyed my patience and it is slow to grow, like a cactus.
No matter what, you are a ham. You crack me up so often and I love you for it.
Yours,
Mama
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