Dear Evita,

You’ve arrived in your final month before you turn two. It’ll be the last month I refer to your age in “months” and the last month I can really get away with calling you a baby. As always, you’ve gone through a lot of changes this month. A couple of weeks ago you said goodbye to Tanzania and hello to the continental United States, a completely new territory for you. You felt real cold and saw snow for the first time. It’s going to take a lot of getting used to. But before we head to Virginia permanently, we’ll be spending your final month of “one” in Texas.

One thing you’ve really started doing this month is becoming really adamant about what you wear. You only want to wear pink dresses, preferably with some sort of frills on it. Only about 5% of your wardrobe meets those requirements, which makes dressing you a nightmare. You’ve started throwing full-on tantrums when I dress you in something you don’t like. You sob “princess…,” “pink…,” “mermaid…,” referring to the three or four outfits you approve of. I’m still perplexed by your girliness, since I certainly didn’t teach you to be that way. Not that I don’t like it… it’s just strange how natural it is for you.

You’ve also started demanding massages this month. If you’re in your carseat you’ll stick your foot out towards me and say, “chwa-chwa,” which I know means “massage.” When we’re at home you’ll climb up next to me and put your head on my lap and ask for a back massage, which I secretly love because I know it means I get to cuddle with you for a bit. I still think that you should be the one massaging me, though!

At 23 months you can identify all the letters in the alphabet and the basic colors and shapes. You can count to ten in Spanish and past ten in English, though you haven’t quite mastered eleven through twenty yet. You love learning and books and coloring, but you’d still rather be running around outside. Your favorite place is still the beach. Aside from splashing around in the water, you love collecting seashells and chasing birds. Whenever you see a bird perched high in a tree, you yell, “Down! Down! You fall!” I’ve tried to explain to you that the birds don’t fall, but I guess since I’m always getting after you for climbing things you don’t think they should be climbing either.

You are very hyper and can be quite a handful most days, but you have such a wonderful personality and you’re so much fun to be around. I feel so lucky to be your mother. Thank you for being my little girl.

Love,
Mama