Dear Baby Princess,
This could be our last quiet evening for a while.
At least, that was how I was going to start this post an hour ago, before I went upstairs to change you and you decided to throw a mega-tantrum about the fact that I gave you a pull-up with a monster on it. After at least 20 solid minutes of tearing your clothes off, crying hysterically and screaming at me about what not to do ("Don't go in my room! Don't wash your hands! Don't talk!") I somehow managed to calm you down by offering to let you wear your ladybug nightgown. The reason this makes no sense is that with the exception of the time you spent in your cast, you never wear nightgowns and generally refuse to. The mind of a toddler is truly an incredible place.
In any case, it's a good reminder of how lucky I am that those tantrums are few and far between. And you seem to be fighting some sort of daycare illness, so I have to imagine you are just in a worse mood than normal.
You really are such a good kid in general. In fact, it makes Daddy and I a little nervous about the next one; we're pretty spoiled by your cheerful disposition. Speaking of the next one, we are now less than a week from my July 2 due date, which was the original impetus for sitting down to write one last post just for you while I had the time.
I know I say the same thing over and over, sweet girl, but you truly have grown and matured and developed so much over the last few months that it's astounding. Your Aunt J, who is somewhat of an expert in these things, told me the other night that you are very advanced in your language and cognition, as well as your abstract and independent play skills. Right now, my very favorite thing you say is "I can help you" in a delicious sing-song voice that I hope I never forget. It's just another manifestation of your sweet nature, and you use it all the time when you see me doing something in which you want to participate. "You need your pajamas, Mommy? I can help you . . ."
Really, my sweet girl, this post is just a huge hug to you. I love you more than I could ever possibly have imagined, and I hope that whatever chaos occurs over the next few days, weeks and months, you never doubt how special you are to Daddy and me. Of course I hope that for your whole life as well, but at the moment my thinking is pretty short-term.
Goodnight, Baby Princess. I hope you are sleeping soundly now in your ladybug nightgown, and that your dreams are as sweet as you are.