Dear Madeline: August, 2013

Dear Madeline,

You have exactly one month of being two left.  How incredible is that?

I feel like I'm grasping at air trying to hold on to each moment with you.  Too soon you will no longer be my little baby.  You will no longer want to hug, cuddle, and hold my hand every moment of the day.  You won't need me to put you to bed at night, or to help you on the potty, or to wash behind your ears. So, as trying as it can sometimes be to hold your hand through every meltdown, potty accident, or stubborn refusal to wear shoes in the market, I'm trying to remember to appreciate this time while it lasts.

Besides, there's only a few months left of just our little family of three.   Now, it's so easy for me to drop everything to hold you when you need to be held.  I worry that it's going to come as quite a slap in the face when I have another little baby in my arms who may need me a little more urgently.  We try to prepare you for this fact the best that we can.

Yet, while it took you a week or two to get used to the idea, you've warmed nicely to the idea of a little sister.  You're so sweet talking about, "our baby."  "Mumma, our baby will cry."  "Mumma, our baby will wear clothes."  "Mumma, you have to rock our baby."

Yesterday, you rubbed my belly with a frown and said, "Mumma, our baby is crying."  I assured you that she will have plenty of time to cry later, and that right now she's happily sleeping in my belly.



You talk about playing games with her.  You will play Little People and princess with her, but will not share Olaf.  You picked your "sister baby" a flower while we walked around town the other morning.  I nearly melted when you handed it to me.

Meanwhile, as we near the end of year two, I can honestly say that you haven't been terrible at all.  For the majority of your life you have been a sweet and easy child.  People keep telling me to wait, that three is age where the real problems begin.

This may be true, as your stubbornness seems to only increase with age.  You have had a very difficult time listening to Mumma and Dada recently.  Dada has even lost his patience with you a few times, and that's a difficult feat to accomplish.

We had to give you a stern talking to at the grocery store this morning after you poked your fingers through the wrapping on our raw meat after we repeatedly told you not to touch it.  Gross.  You cried crocodile tears the entire time we stood in line.  Two elderly ladies standing behind us smiled at your dramatic attempts, while Dada and I did our best to ignore you.

You boo-hoo-hoo-ed until you noticed a package of M&Ms beside you.  Suddenly, all your tears were dry, and you slyly asked, "Are those M&Ms for me?" while flashing your cutest grin.  The ladies behind us burst into laughter.

"Amazing how fast that came to an end," one lady commented.

The problem is that you have learned to work your cute to your advantage.  You did not get the M&Ms, but since candy was buy-one-get-one, and I really wanted a Kit Kat, I may have stuffed one in my purse for later when you weren't looking.

We've got under two weeks of vacation left, little one.  Soon, you'll be back to the daily preschool grind, while Mumma and Dada get back to work.  Then before we know it, there will be snow on the ground, Christmas carols being sung, and a new little baby to rock your little world.

Enjoy being the center of attention while you can, Maddie Bear.  I don't mind too much.

Love,
Mumma