Crazy beautiful. Some moments I just stare at you and love you to death. Your sweet, sweet cheeks. Your adorable little legs. Your growing hair. Your blue eyes. You are a beautiful girl and don't ever think otherwise. Please. As the quote goes, "God don't make no junk." Believe it. We still haven't had to give you a hair cut. You've got some slight, ever so slight, waves in your hair - so I'm still not sure if you'll be curly like Miles or straight like Jonas. You probably will end up being Like Emmy. Go figure. Your hair is the darkest of the kiddos. I painted your toenails for the first time a few weeks ago and you adored it. I adored you adoring it. Your daddy thinks you are the most beautiful little gal under 30 (I win it for the "over 30" group).
Crazy silly. Oh my, Emmy, are you ever silly. You sure know how to have fun. You hop, hop, hop, spin, spin, spin, hop, and fall all over our floors. All the while giggling. It's too cute. You used to make a "scowl" face just to be funny - it always made me smile. Even if you were trying to be more serious. You love trying on your shoes, as well as your brothers', your father's, your mother's, and your grandma's. You put them on, walk around, then take them off. When your brothers are being funny (or at least when they think they are being funny), you just laugh and laugh - I'm not sure you really think they are funny, but you just like laughing and being silly. It cracks me up. You love to swing on our basement swing and have a silly time doing so. You learned it from your brothers I presume.
Speaking of your brothers. . . they still adore and love you. But I think you rattle their nerves a little more. You are more able than ever before and that scares them. And it should. Sometimes they shut their bedroom door so you can't come in. Miles tells me, "Mom, don't let Emmy outside because I don't want her to ruin our sandbox." You can be quite destructive, little girl. But the boys also love playing with you because you jump right in. When they play monkey, you play monkey. When they wrestle, you wrestle. When they climb ladders, you climb ladders. When they jump in puddles, you literally jump right in. You fit in very well in this house.
Crazy fun. There is just something about you that is. . . fun. I'm not sure what it is. Your dad and I just have fun watching you. You make us smile, often. You are not a dull girl, oh no. You are always up to something. Falling over on the couch, doing somersaults on the floor, or headstands - which you are quite good at. In fact, you have signs of being an excellent gymnast. Your brothers got to take a gymnastics class together this year and you were so upset about not being able to join them. But, frankly, I think you learned more than them. :) Your skills are amazing for a 2-year old. You have little fear.
Crazy dirty. Wow, Emmy, my boys don't compare to you when it comes to dirtiness. It's like I roll you in honey and then the mud each and every day. I don't, I promise. You're just messy. You like to make messes and get messy, I guess. You make a mess when eating. You paint yourself when you're suppose to be painting paper. You draw on yourself when you are suppose to be coloring pictures. You put hand soap in your hair. Or pasta sauce in your hair. Dirt sticks to you like dog hair on a black couch.
But, in almost a direct contrast to this, you can't stand if you have a teeny-tiny itty-bitty piece of crumb on the bottom of your foot. I call you the "Princess and the Pea" because of this. You whine and whimper like you just stepped on a 3 inch nail. Most of the time I can't even see what the problem is - I just brush your foot and apparently it gets whatever it was off. You could solve this problem by wearing shoes, or even socks - but you don't like wearing shoes or socks in the house.
Crazy clingy. You don't get too far from me when I'm home. And if I'm gone, you stick pretty close to your daddy. It's endearing. It's annoying. It's both. I love that you love me, want me, and "help" me out. But I really wish I could go to the bathroom by myself. Or make a phone call without you having to be right up to the phone as well. But I do love it when you "help" me make bread or "help" me do the dishes. It's fun having you around. Most of the time.
You're still crazy clingy to your "boo." Your bunting. You used to wear them to bed and as soon as we'd put it on, you would "suck" on it. Now you don't fit it, but we still have to have it close by you if we want you to be happy for more than 2 minutes. You take the cuffs and tickle your feet, your face, your tummy, you hands, etc. At bedtime and naptime I get to do the tickling. You're a mess if your boo is not near you. I like that you have something to soothe you, but I do feel somewhat slighted when you get hurt and you cry for you boo. Not your mom who gave you birth, but your boo.
Crazy for treats. I think your second word (or close to it) was "cookie." You love sugar. Oh do you love sugar.
Crazy cranky. Man can you throw a fit. The terrible twos started about 6 months ago. I truly think you picked this up from your brothers. So blame them. You throw tantrums wherever you are - including Main Streets in both Moab and Silverton. So fun. You scream and wail. You thump your head on our floors (including our hardwood floors and even the tile floor). You even bite yourself. Hard. Ouch, I hate it when you do that. It makes me so sad that you do that to yourself. I hope it is a "phase." If you are not being held, you are usually cranky about it.
Nonetheless we are 100% Crazy In Love With You. Seriously Emmy.
We love you.
love, mommy (and daddy)
oh and p.s. Happy Birthday!