Ask Lydia her name and she'll tell you: Lydia-Grace Pretty Face |
Lydia is my two year old. My precocious, rambling, adorable two year old. She is the only speaking company I have until my teenager, Michaela, comes home from school. And believe me, now that I am home full time, I am in dire need of company.
There are times Lydia relishes her new role. "I hold chew (you)." "I love you, Mommy." "Mommy, I help you. Mommy, we love each other." "Mommy, your Nate Berkus is on!"
She is so sweet. She really tries to help. Like when I lost my phone, she found it. "Mommy, I got your phone! It's on my heine!" And when I couldn't find my keys, she picked them up and put them in the dishwasher. It's important for her to have things clean. And when she thought my hair needed sprucing up, she dipped her hands in the toilet and put them on my head. I found that out later.
But Lydia has a temper, too. She's likely to tell you how she feels, always ending with the word "ever."
"Mommy, not nice, EVER!" "Go away, EVER!" And there are times she really knows how to hit home, "No Nate Berkus, EVER!"
But mostly, she just wants her old friends at daycare—and asks for them incessantly.
Today we joined a new playgroup, but had to pass the old daycare on the way. "Look, Mommy! I see my friends today!" "We're making new friends today, Lydia." "Ok, I see my friends." "No, you'll see them tomorrow." "Today?" "No, tomorrow." "I want to see them today!" "Listen kid, Mommy couldn't afford today and tomorrow, so you're getting tomorrow!" "Ok." So the free moment I had, I called daycare to see if they could fit her in for the following day.
Lydia never gives up. I love that about her. And hopefully when she gets to be an obnoxious teenager, she won't give up on me either.
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