Emmylou is 33 months old

Dear Emmylou,

No, I didn't forget! I know, I know, you turned 33 months about 2 weeks ago. Along with being sick and completely swamped with holiday errands and festivities around that time, I think I'm also in denial-- I don't want to admit that in less than three short months my baby girl will turn 3 years old! It just doesn't seem possible. But now Christmas has already come and gone and the new year has begun so I know it's right around the corner.

Here's what you're up to these days: first, you sure liked Christmas. This year was fantastic- you loved Santa and our elf, Birdie, and you really understood the whole Christmas concept. Christmas morning was absolutely perfect. You didn't get too overwhelmed like you did last year, although at one point mid-present-opening you went back to your bed and said you were just "going to take an itty bitty nap." You returned about 45 seconds later, completely refreshed.

Overall the pace of the morning was just right. We were all so happy and excited for you. Sometimes we had to remind you, but for the most part you gave everyone sincere thanks for their presents. You seemed to absolutely love everything you got and I'm sure you noticed me beaming whenever you used your good manners.

This past month has definitely brought one major milestone: no more diapers! Thankfully you have mastered the art of potty training and I am so happy to have fewer diapers to change. I also can't tell you how much I enjoy seeing you proud of yourself. You definitely realize that this is a big deal. Good for you, Big Girl.

What else? Lately you've really been cracking me up. You say the most hilarious things on a daily basis and your personality just keeps growing and growing. One of my New Year's resolutions is to keep better track of the things you say as I always think I'll remember them then never do. I'm hoping my brain will regenerate in a couple of years when you and your brother get a little older so that my memory (among other things) improves.

More tidbits this month: You only want to eat cold things. For example, cold scrambled eggs or cold Spaghettios (actually, you'll provide me with a rambling list of all the foods you prefer cold if given the chance). You still pronounce "Miller" as some weird variation of "Noah." You are all about dressing up or wearing your cowboy boots to inappropriate places. You won't let me brush your hair or wipe your face 99% of the time so you usually look like an orphan child. Why? I've settled on a new strategy: I'm picking my battles. I have to admit that a few weeks ago I was pretty down about how much I was either threatening you or bribing you to do what I wanted (mostly unsuccessfully). I was trying to stay consistent for your benefit but I think it ended up causing more power struggles than it was all worth. So now I'm not sweating the small stuff and so far we're having more fun and you haven't turned into a raving spoiled lunatic (yet). Maybe we'll make it through this phase after all?

Lou, I love you with all my heart every second of every day. Even when I'm angry with you or frustrated. I tell you that all the time. I don't ever want to crush your sweet, enthusiastic and inquisitive spirit because it's what I love most about you. Keep going, girl.

Love always,
Mommy