She turned two last week.  Went ahead and did it, even though she knows how I feel about birthdays.  Did it despite the stolen minutes I spent in her room the night before silently imploring her not to grow up and kissing her sleeping face.   Did it even though I told her that the days sometimes go by so slowly, but the years fly by far too fast and that eighteen months kicks off my very favorite stage and I don’t want it to go too quickly that I forget to remember how great it was.  Amidst all the tantrums and words lost in translation and knocky-knees running away from me and straight into whatever danger she can find, there is a very deep contentment in watching the springing up of a person.  Because this is when it starts.  When you can watch a seed start to really sprout, but I’d like to put my little sproutling in my pocket and save it for a rainy day, thank you very much.
But she did it.  Turned two, I mean.  And it was so sweet.  No waking up wanting only to open presents.  No asking for a birthday party with a clown and a bouncehouse.  Just her, completely unaware of any significance to the day, enabling us to postpone her birthday until 3 o’clock when there was a mystery trip to the Critter Barn in Zeeland so she could pet all the animals she could get her hands on.

Although as it turns out, the animal she most wanted to pet was her nanny-burd.  She got to do that too, since Nana and Papa showed up by surprise, Nana in her signature lavender smell we all know so well and Papa in his signature Cole-Haan loafers which have taken him everywhere from the World Cup in California to mountain climbing in Colorado to a petting zoo in Zeeland, Michigan.

Then to Red Robins for a birthday burger and Holland Peanut for dessert and then to the cottage for a surprise sleepover and presents, which made this new two year old scream in delight.  Never seen that before.  But maybe Bitty Baby and all her accoutrements do that to every two year old.  This is what two looks like:

Now, normally a new two year old wouldn’t be wearing her Uggs in June, but this one had to since it was freezing at the cottage.  Didn’t matter.  We can’t go anywhere now without Bittybubby and stloleher.
Then there was Papa doing popcorn on the tramp and making the kids fly so high we thought they’d never come back.

 Nana’npapa (all one word) are the best.  No contest.  Just the best.  And the perfect hosts when a girl is looking to two turn and wants to do it with trampoline popcorn and a sleepover and some sunny beach time.

And three siblings who were maybe as excited as she was to see her turning two.

Best mystery trip.  Best weekend.  Thank you Lucy June for turning two, despite me, and for making our lives so much richer for you being in them.  We adore you, little mama.
Now you’ll have to excuse this lazy blogger as I step away from my computer and into the white diaper for a road trip to the Sugar Cottage for ten or so days of cousins and Fourth of July and polyester athletic wear and learning how to do all of it without Mumsy for the first time.  Makes my heart sigh to think about it.
This is me being real.  Wistful.  Nostalgic.  Weepy.  The usual.


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