Kelly Belly,

If there is a flat surface below you…anywhere in your domain…anywhere…on earth: you have face planted on it. Face. Down. Plant. Smack AND Down. You’ve actually done quite well on the bruises. You bounce back girl, I’ll give you that. But your Achilles Heel is height! You refuse to fall unless you have pulled yourself up to some frightening height! When you fell face first off the front porch and into the softest bush in our landscaping, I began to wonder if maybe you knew what you were doing. You pulled yourself out of the bush, shook off the twigs, and then YELLED FULL VOICE at the bush for getting the way of a good head injury.

We’re in that delightful month when you’re just happy to be “talking”. You have yet to discover that you’re not saying anything. I love this month. You only want what’s in your immediate domain. Nona Kitty? I see Nona Kitty, I point to Nona Kitty, Mommy gives me Nona Kitty. MIRACLE! HAPPINESS! In a month or two you’re going to decide you want Nona while we are several rooms away from said kitty. You won’t understand why I am not giving you Nona that you are calling, “DEEeeeeee”. It won’t be pretty honey, but we’ll survive.

The definition for me this month has been our commute to Sara’s school. I feel the need to apologize for the hours we’re spending in the car. It sucks for you. I don’t mind it one bit, but I know you do. I’ve had to make a call for the family on this one and decide that we all have to sacrifice things to be on this team. Think of it as a downpayment. When Sara is long gone to college, you’ll be a sophomore in high school. I promise to shuttle you and your very irritating high drama girlfriends to every mall in this city. You won’t have to share the bathroom, the ironing queue, your closet, or my daily dose of hugs and kisses. While I’ll never lie and tell you that life is fair, I will tell you it usually evens out in the end. It’s important for you and Sara to know: we’re all in this together.

I gave up this week and put the DVD player in the car.  Mommy waves the white flag.  This small acquiescing on my part has been like winning the lottery on yours.  You scream with glee when I put you in your carseat as you point and yell, “VO VO!” (video).  I have no idea why you and your sister are so addicted to those cheap Baby Genius DVDS full of kids singing and dancing to Childrens’ Songs, but you LOVE IT.  I just can’t believe that listening to “I want to oat oat oat OPPLES and BONONOS” will turn your brain to mush any more than listening to Raffi on a CD.

Our days are full of laughter.  We go for donuts and a romp through The Children’s Museum at least once a week now, just the two of us.  It’s all giggles, to the point people stop and stare.  Most feel compelled to tell you how unbelievably cute you are…how adorable, how sweet.  You never fail to blow these well-meaning strangers a huge kiss.  MWAHHH!!!  With your one volume: LOUD.  Then we laugh and laugh.  It’s our private joke I suppose.  You are the sugar and Sara is the spice.  It takes all four of us to bring the balance to our home.  Our family is so perfectly colorful, my heart bursts every day from loving the three of you.

You don’t use too many words (other than backpack, which Santa is sure to bring you).  You adamantly refuse to sign.  But somehow, I just know what you mean.  Because you know what Baby Chicken?  Mommy knows, Mommy knows.

Kissing your cheeks off every single day,

Mommy