Ivy's 2nd birthday was last week. And, officially, my baby is no longer a baby. *sniff*
My sister and her family and my parents all came over for the festivities. We had dinner (yummy Monte Cristo sandwiches), and then Ivy opened her gifts. She had snuck outside for a little bit, and didn't want to come back in. So I picked her up, and she started crying. As soon as she saw the presents out for her, though, she immediately stopped the tears and started squealing happy squeals. A lot of happy squeals.
She got two babies (one that goes potty), Snow White the movie, sunglasses, a fairy costume, a baby stroller, and some clothes. My boys absolutely hate getting clothes. But my girly girl squealed at every item, and took it around to every person in the room to show them, in case they had missed her very cute new outfit.
We brought the cake out to her with the candles lit. We sang to her, then tried to tell her to blow out the candles. And she reached out and grabbed one instead, putting it out with her fingers. I don't think it burned her; she just seemed surprised is all.
For all the testosterone we have in our house, Ivy balances it out with all her estrogen. She is a GIRLY GIRL, all the way. (Although she can say "zombies" and laughs at her own burps.) She's talking more and more, which I love. She's very into shoes and babies. Ivy knows when she has a "stee buh" (stinky bum). (But...ugh, I'm just not quite ready to take the leap. Getting there, but not quite ready. Diapers have been a constant in my life for almost 7 years.) Ivy loves to color, just like her brothers. She also loves to pretend to read. Ivy sucks on the fringe of her fleece blanket, just like Brock did. She checks for gunk in between her toes, just like all her brothers did at that age. (Is that just my kids?) She tries to be the boss of her brothers, and half the time succeeds in getting her way with them. Ivy sleeps with her bum in the air, loves fruit snacks, and has her dad wrapped around her little finger. Ivy is independent-she wants to give herself a bath, like her brothers do. She loves cleaning things-give her a rag, and she'll have whatever surface spotless in no time. She's a sweet sweet thing, and I'm so glad she's mine.
And I pray that the sweetness stays, and that the Terrible Twos avoid our house.
A slide show: