Dear Lorelei,

I love you so much. You are such an adorable little fartknocker.

I love that you wake me up by sticking your finger up my nose. Or kicking me in the ribs. Or just randomly yelling I BREFESS MOMMY GIT UP!

I love that you not only aren’t afraid of bugs, but that you will squat your little chubby self down to try and catch them. And eat them, usually.

I love that the pacifier is going to be a real hassle to get rid of. That you have 129 days until your third birthday, when the fairy takes them to all the new babies in the world. Enjoy it now, princess.

I love how you will take a running start to headbutt someone. That your pinches leave bruises and that you can effectively clothesline Jack to the floor. We don’t call you Earthmover and Cagefighter for no reason.

I love that you’ll lay your head down on my shoulder. You are my snuggly bear.

I love that when you are tired, you’ll just go to bed. And often give goodnight kisses to everyone in the house – guests and all.

I love that you change your clothes eleventynine times a day, and refuse to listen that jumpers need a shirt on underneath. Your shoes are often mismatched, and really, why not?

I love that you have been trying harder to sit on the potty, and will hold still for two and a half songs before running away cackling. However you don’t take kindly to the idea that we don’t wear potties. This is not really a why not, though. It’s a definite why.