2

Dear two years old,

I just wanted to share my thoughts with you. Please realize, I do understand you are temporary, but nonetheless, I must get a few things off my chest.
First and foremost, 2 years old, YOU SUCK. Big time. Never in my darkest of days, have I felt so defeated as I do by you. You are quite literally kicking my ass. And I don't really understand how you do it.

I just wish you could make up your mind, and stick with it. Not cry when I give you something you just asked me for. Stop asking me for candy for breakfast when you KNOW you can't have it. Candy as a reward for going in the potty is coming back to bite me... just as a side note.

I also wish there was a simple solution for things that used to be so simple. I.E : BEDTIME. NAPTIME.ANYTIME. I used to be able to tuck you sweetly away with your lovey and paci and all the dolls and bears your heart desired. You stayed there. And you slept. Now, if I am lucky, you won't kick, or hit or climb out. You'll keep your diaper on and there won't be pee or (gasp!!) poop in places there shouldn't be. But there is no solution you see. A crib tent will be the ultimate target of destruction if I choose to cage you. But a big girl bed is not quite an option either. I used to think a quiet monitor meant a sleeping angel. I now know it means a plot to knock your mommy down a peg. I know it means you are eating crayons and finding a stamp (still trying to figure this one out) and stamping your doll's faces. A big girl bed, is in fact, for big girls. You, two years old, are in limbo. Not a baby, for sure, but not yet a "big girl".

Two years old, you DO make me laugh. You say the funniest stuff and CAN be the most precious thing - AT TIMES. Like telling mommy she has two chins (thanks!) and telling me that everyone is two years old, and mommy is 30 (thanks for knocking off a year, almost two). I love how you ask to play "dress up dollies". But, you know, two years old, if you could just relax a sec, so I could go and get them (after I clean up the mess you made with your lunch), it would mean the world to me.

I wish you understood that diapers and wipes cost money, two years old. Because they do. So when you tell me you have to poop, and I take off your diaper so you can sit on the potty for a milisecond, that tape is not re-usable. I need a new diaper. Grr. And those wipes that you pull out of the box by the handful, when the monitor I am listening clearly indicates you are sleeping (big fat LIE) - those are expensive. Two years old, please stop wasting wipes.
Two years old, I wish it was simple. But it's not. It's you trying to become three years old, then four, then five, and by the time I know it, 18, 19, 20. Two years old, please know I am trying my best. That I hate you, but GOD DAMMIT, do I LOVE you. I want you to discover YOU. I want you to be independent and self-sufficient. I want you to push the limits and be who YOU want to be. I guess that means, I want you to be me. Two years old, I am trying to be as patient as I can be. There will be tears (mine and yours). But there will be hugs and kisses and so much love. I think two years old is a struggle for you - your independence. But please know, two years old, it is a struggle for me as well. We are in this together, two years old.

Two years old. Only 338 days to go. And then comes three, which I've been told is ... WORSE...than two years old.

(This) Home is where my heart is.

FINALLY!!! I never thought I would live to see the day of no more boxes and packing tape.

I know I've said it before, but this time I mean it - I finally feel like I am home.



This house is perfection. Everything about it makes me smile. We have a garage for all our junk. There is plenty of space for the kids to have a play "area"... no more play "room" - but let's be honest here, I was SICK and TIRED of cleaning up a room full of toys night after freaking night. So, it's a lot more manageable this way. We also have a ton more storage space to keep some of those pesky toys tucked away for Goodwill... I mean, a rainy day.
We have a living room... and a dining room -- that wasn't an after thought. SO it is a true room for dining, not a lanai turned 4 sheets of drywall and we'll call it a dining room. Nope. We've got the real deal.
And I LOVE, with emphasis on LOVE, my kitchen. It is open, it is spacious, it is perfect. I can see the kids while I am cooking. Now I can cook and bake whenever I want..not just during nap time. I can actually be a half way productive human again, since I can see my kids from the kitchen.
We have an upstairs!! YAY! Since I've lived in Hawaii, I haven't ever lived in a 2 story house (remember, this is my 11th, yes 11th move!!!!) The kids each have their own adorable little bedroom... which I have yet to fully unpack or decorate. And the master... is ENORMOUS! It was actually two rooms turned into a giant master! We have 2, count them, 2 closets... one of which is a walk-in!! Yeeeehaw. No more making hubby hang his clothes in the kids' rooms! The second closet will be devoted to my craft stuff (read:scrapbook paper!!).
And the view... oh, the sweet view. It is spectacular. Amazing. The breeze... we hardly have to run the air, with the exception of for a few of the peak hours in the middle of the afternoon... Oh, and the air works. Don't worry, we checked.
Everything here is just fantastic. We are in love.
Now we can concentrate on living our lives and not trying to find the place to do it. So happy to finally be home.
Life is good.

(Oh, and PS, I am fully aware of the fact that my shutters need a good power wash!!).