Clairey, on September 10th, you turned 2 years old. And let me tell you something: if you stick your finger into your diaper to show me that you have poop one more time, you're not going to see your 3rd birthday. Poopy diapers aside, you are a completely awesome kid. You are sassy, spunky, and mainly, pure evil. You're just like your mommy.
Baby girl, you have taught me more about life in your 2 short years, than I have learned in my lifetime. You've shown me that my heart can grow even more than I thought possible, that I can love like never before, and that I have more patience that I thought.
Much like your big sister, you are a "spirited" child. But although you and Jenna are clearly sisters, you, baby girl, are a spirit in yourself. You're very independant, very demanding, and very sneaky. You enjoy ripping books to shreds, then laughing when you see the look of horror on my face. You throw things, then laugh and run. When you hurt someone, you nearly always refuse to apologize, but will somehow make it that you are the victim. Baby girl, you are bad, but you are so cute.
Nothing is sweeter than hearing you say, "Mommee! I luh you!" and when I answer, "I love you, too!" Your precious little voice comes back with, "Toooooo!" You love to sing your ABCs, especially, "lel-lel-lem-o-p!" You are a cuddly, cuddly baby--which is evident by the fact that you sleep in my bed every single night. Oh yes, every night. You start out in your bed, but end up in mine sometime before 5am. No idea when you do it, but you are stealthy. I try to lecture you in the morning, about how "you need to stay in your own bed!" but that never works. You usually look at me, place your chunky little hand on my face, and say, "Much, mommy, much..." which is your way of saying, "Mommy, I love you so much."
Clairey, it's going to go by so fast--so fast. You are my precious punkin, my boo-boo magoo, my sweetheart. Thank you, baby girl.