Papoe

Dressing up is not that hard to do

Dress up is in full swing in these parts. Score one for the parents. I knew buying a dress up box for the girls would go over well, but there is always a moment with toddlers where you cannot measure their response. Would they notice that they got a joint gift for Christmas (again!) and want their own? Would they fight over one item and ignore the rest? Would the box be enjoyed by both girls or just Jocelyn?

I started collecting items around Halloween--picking up a few costumes (a ladybug, a pirate, a doctor) and then I hit the party store for a collection of hats and accessories. I made sure to pick two of almost everything. Just in case.

The goods

The first thing Jocelyn wanted to wear was the ladybug costume. She asked to wear it to school the following Monday. And the next day and the next. Aja took all the contents out of the box and put it back, and then threw it out again. I was thinking the entire thing might have been a bust.

But like most kids, they love to rediscover what has been there all along (or for the last week).

The best part about all this dressing up is that we used one of their two toy boxes to house the goods. Meaning, we were forced to purge our life of half the toys. The girls have yet to notice.

Holiday smiles

The Christmas spirit was alive and kicking all weekend. We are still unwinding and catching up on sleep. In the meantime, I give you: Holiday Smiles.

Happy holidays!

On top of spaghetti

All covered with, well...spaghetti. And yes, Aja is finally donning spectacles. At least for five minutes at a time.

Is the tree going to dance?

Jocelyn: What’s that?

Me: A tree skirt.

Jocelyn: A tree skirt? Is the tree going to dance?

**

We attended the Jack London Square tree lighting ceremony on Friday night. They have a whole assortment of events and entertainment, but we knew that the girls wouldn’t last two hours down there. We picked the girls up from school and we out to dinner, which is becoming one of Jocelyn's favorite things to do (Aja likes it only when there's food directly in front of her). We arrived at the ceremony just before the tree was lit. I think Jocelyn was most excited about the fake snow that spat out over the crowd, but her eyes got wide as we counted down, and went from this:

 

To this:

 

At home, I finished my own version of trimming the tree. Aja calls all the ornaments apples. “Mo apples! Mo apples,” and then she and Jocelyn touch each and every one. It’s a constant battle to get them to back up from the tree, but it’s worth it.

 

Jocelyn asked where the presents were and I told her they would arrive closer to Christmas. So she pulled all the books off the bookshelf and starting arranging them, telling her sister, “Come on Aja, these are our presents.”

This is my favorite time of year.

Dear Aja

Aja,

You are two years old. You have been two years old for almost a month but I’ve been struggling to say much more because there are not enough words to describe how we got from there to here. The day that you were born floats in my mind like someone else’s memory. I remember the first time that I visited you in the NICU and a nurse congratulated me. It felt so odd, as though if I were to say thank you it would mean that I was happy you arrived early. I’m still not happy you chose to make your mark in August rather than November, but I am the happiest woman in the world because you are mine. You are sour and sweet and stubborn and determined and happy and loving. You’ve made me slow down and pay attention to the small milestones—the first time you turned your head, your first full cackle of a laugh, and the first time I found your hand wrapped securely around a lock of Jocelyn’s hair (pulling like it was a game of tug-o-war). You are learning your words and you love to go through the list of family members whose photos adorn the wall. Mommy! Daddy! Jojo! Nana! And when I ask you who you are you say, “Ada.” It melts my heart.

You still love your Daddy, but you have a new found love for Mommy, which I appreciate most of the time. The fact that this stems from you not wanting me to hold Jocelyn or push her in the stroller is not lost on me. I know what you’re doing. When you are called and confronted with bad behavior—usually consisting of you hitting or biting your sister—you cock your head to the side, bat your eyes and say, “No!” Your cuteness will get you far in life but please remember to only use it for good.

I’m looking forward to this next year, when your gibberish transforms into sentences and I learn why you like to hold tutus but not wear them and whether you will play soccer just to be like your sister or if you’ll decide that you’d rather eat all the oranges on the sidelines. Either way, I’ll cheer you on.

I love you baby girl.

Mommy