Happy birthday, my sweetest girl! I just finished working, and I am winding down hoping to catch a few hours of sleep before heading in to work tomorrow for the shortest work day that I can possibly pull off, because, so help me, this is not a day for working – this is a day for Daphne! Today you turn two. Today you require two fingers! Today. Today you are two.

Two is so much older than one. True, today is just one day more than yesterday, but I can no longer call you my baby, because now you are my toddler. My toddler who will ALWAYS be my baby. And what a wonderful toddler, what a wonderful two, you are. There is so much you packed in this two. You do everything with gusto – you run “so fast” (well, you THINK you run “so fast”), you jump “so high” (without leaving the ground), you take bites that are “so big!” even though they are the smallest bites on your plate. Everything is “so!” You are SO! So beautiful. So hilarious. So tender. So fierce. So exuberant. So snuggly. So independent. So curious. So smart. You are so… everything.
You even sleep hard.
Your Mommy’s little angel and have Daddy so firmly wrapped around your little finger. It’s almost frightening how much we love you. Even though you are a bit of a toot. You follow me around and any time you see my hands full, you insist on “Mama Bup!” You must be next to me, often demanding a spot in my lap at dinner in lieu of sitting in your own seat, but at bed time when it is my turn to read you books you scream at me and say “NO, DADDY DO!!!!” You both break my heart and fill it up completely all the time. Welcome to life with a daughter. The other day I came home from work, and Steve said to you “Tell Mama what your name is” and you said “Daph-a-nee” and Steve said “Yes, but tell Mama your other name” and you smiled, exposing that lethal dimple, and said “Pwincess.”
Indeed.
When something doesn’t work, it is “out of ink” – a perfect example of you both knowing so much more than you should at your age and you totally not understanding a single thing that comes out of your mouth.
You are a bit of a pathological liar. For example, you had a scrape on your leg, and when Daddy asked you where it came from, you told him that “Mommy bit” you. I mean, really, Daphne. No one believes you (just like we don’t believe that Penny, Clementine OR Mommy went pee-pee in your pull up, despite your protests that it wasn’t you and your tendency to name anyone and everyone else that comes to mind) and it is just a little bit disturbing.
Fortunately, it is also a lot bit hilarious.
By far, if your dad and I had to pick a favorite Daphne-ism of the moment, it would “Comemom, mom” (or Dad, but I am writing, so we go with Mom). Always said with a hand up in the air, already one step heading in the direction we are to follow. It is sweet. It is bossy. It is confident. It is certain. It is Daphne.
My wishes for you on this day is joy. May your day, may this life, be filled with joy. For you deserve that which you give, and you have given me more joy than I deserve.
Happy Birthday, Love.