Dear Piper,
I am kind of freaking out right now-- mostly because it's 9:18pm (gasp!), and I am just starting to write your birthday letter for tomorrow. I have been thinking about it for a while now, but maybe I thought I could slow down time and keep you from turning two if I procrastinated. (Note to self: did not work).
Who are we kidding though, child? You are officially two in every way. And by "every way," I mean that you are starting to try fun things like throwing fits. Oh, the tantrums. Luckily, yours don't last very long. And because of how hilarious you look, I sometimes have to fight back laughter and force myself to get back into the quick-responding motherly mode whenever it happens. I can't help it that you have gigantic blue eyeballs and gapped-teeth that make me smile.
I can't end this letter without proper documentation of your weirdest/funniest habit. Some kids have a lovey. Some kids have a pacifier. Some like to suck their thumb. You, child, have a double whammy. Sometime over the past year, you found your own "lovey" in addition to your thumb: your belly button. It doesn't help that I rarely get everyone dressed many days, but the fact that you walk around with a thumb in your mouth and a finger in your belly button really kicks up our civilized image another notch. When you are sleepy, the hand goes down the shirt immediately to find the button. If I have the nerve to dress you in a restrictive outfit, I will surely hear about it. "Can't get my button!" Want proof? Here goes:
[Of course I'm not embarrassed that my child looks like this in public...]
[The button must be easily accessible]
[You pick the greatest outfits to go with your #1 accessory!]
Piper, you bring us so much joy. We love you more than words can say. Now on your birthday, take a big bite out of life just like you did this fried meatball at the rodeo:
Happy birthday, sweet Piper.
Love, Mom
P.S. You have exactly one year to rid yourself of the terrible two's.
