Eugenious

Almost two, waiting in a basket.

On her first birthday, August 15, 2009.

Dearest Elena,

A week ago Sunday, you turned TWO! While I finished up a course in the Wallowas–eating cinnamon rolls baked over a fire while laughing with college students–your Dad gave you the greatest gift anyone can have on her birthday: freedom to choose! When asked where you’d like to have dinner, you said “beach.” So you, Sylvan, and Daddy packed up the van and headed to Florence to build a boat out of sand and eat fish and chips. Yumm, good choice. You even made it back to have brownie-flavored mini-cupcakes for dessert with Avi and Noah.

Does this really need a caption?

Elena on an E, Spokane, July 2010.

Every day, you are different from the day before. Really. What you do right now:

• Imitate any word you hear, often with amusing results. Somehow, when you say Sylvan, it sounds like “doh-doh.” Likewise, when you say turtle, it sounds like “doh-doh.” The other day, when I asked you to say “Sylvan’s turtles,” you knew how silly it sounded: “doh-doh-doh-doh.” You couldn’t stop laughing.
• Speak, knowing that you will be understood by someone. Just after I said to a friend, “My older child translate for my younger? No. I understand her, too,” your vocabulary exploded in early July. I often don’t understand you, but between Sylvan’s knack and your patience, you’re bringing me up to speed.
• Play with play-dough. You like to cut it up, put it in containers, and smush different colors together.
• Climb anything.
• Play independently, often with messy results: sleeping bag piles, drawers full of rubber band/twist-tie nests, book explosions. But, hey, you’re taking care of yourself. I think that, sometime this year, you and your brother can take on breakfast by yourself. You have the will, and he has the skills. You’ll be a cereal-eating team!
• Say “Yes, please” (“Yes, pease”) when asked if you’d like milk or blueberries or cashews. So polite I just want to squeeze you.
• Love dolls, and you’re learning to count them; one is for one, two is for anything more than one. This morning, though, you used the word three–for only two dolls, but you know it’s related to those counting words.
• Joke and laugh. You say “Noooo” with that head tilt that means “I’m not sure if I mean no or not.”
• Have very definite opinions about things. I’m sorry if you sometimes get squashed in the melee of family life. You can commiserate with Aunt Jenny, another second baby.

A rare moment of sadness. Cute, huh?

Two years ago, one of the best things in my life happened to me. You are a burst of positive energy, and we can use that in a family prone to the grumpies. You are full of joy and wonder and independence. I want so badly to be a great Mommy for you.

You told me you loved me on the phone the other night, when I was in eastern Washington. I love you, too, Elena.

Love,
Mommy