Twenty two already

Dear Bella,

You know what's funny about February? It's barely over (well, so it was on the 18th anyhow) and it already feels like the shortest month ever. We spent the first half of the month getting through your chicken pox, and the second half trying to figure out how to get you to sleep again. Once you recovered enough to not fall asleep in the rocking chair every day, you decided that naps were a thing of the past. Believe me, you may find that exciting at 1pm, but when you spend the rest of the day bouncing off the walls and exploding over nothing, I guarantee that it's not the easiest way to go about life.

Every step we take towards your birthday I find myself miles closer to the arrival of your little sibling. I'm still not sure what to make of it, but at the moment, I can't complain. I'm getting to see the sweetest side of you, crossing my fingers the real thing will be just as wonderful. You pet my belly and say hello, and we practice putting your bears to bed and nursing them. We set them up in circle around you while you read your books, and I can't help but love being shushed by you when your bears are trying to sleep.

Words are tumbling out of your mouth now faster than either of us can keep up. We find you listening in when least expect it, and you like to repeat the last word of all our sentences. This morning I said aloud (to no one particular), What's six times three? Eighteen? and I heard a tiny echo, Eighteen?

Of course, not all words are so easy to pronounce and you have quite your list of homonyms and accidentally elicit words. Yes, sock still starts with a c, and sit has an extra h in it. Teetee is synonymous with either TV or kitty. Ducky is the hardest one because often it also means doggie. All the rest tend to have hand signals, like wind and rain (wrrrin). I'm so glad you've finally taken to signing. Just the few simple things we know keep our lives that much more peaceful.

You spend the days running around at top speed (wwwwrun!), balancing block towers that are taller than yourself, and decorating all your 2000 parts with ink. Only recently have the pens gone into time out for misuse on permanent surfaces. Daddy thinks you are going to be a tattoo artist, and I'll settle for architect. But don't let your 22 month-old talents confine you. There's still time to try more. And believe me, I cannot wait to see all the little talents hiding inside you. Watching you explore your abilities is my absolute favorite part of this job.

I love you to pieces,
mama