Thursday, September 2, 2010
And she's two.
Just like that.
Two years with our little Lyla Bean has flown by at a rate that makes Lyla look slow. When she was born countless numbers of parents would warn me how quickly it goes by, which I assumed was just their way of dealing with the fact they were old. However, in the last two years I have either gotten much older (I am certain I look it — around the corners of my sleep deprived eyes I have little wrinkles setting into my skin that spell "Lyla" if you look closely enough), or I have become much cheesier, because I find myself telling this cliched adage to many of my friends with newborns.
The truth of the matter is that kids put your life, your age — and the stunning rate at which both move forward — in sharp perspective. The amazing little girl Lyla has become over the past two years is a process that truly has flown by. I was just looking back at pictures of her as a little baby and sat in shock realizing how much she has changed and how much she has always been the same over the past two years. The same little smirk and mischievous twinkle in her eye. The most expressively non-verbal lips. And the giggle. Her laugh pops like a champagne bottle that then continues to bubble over, getting all over everyone, creating a stickily sweet mess. She is still the same little cuddle bug she was since her very first days outside of her mommy. She still nuzzles her head into our necks to feel safe — and hides there when she knows she is in trouble. She still sleeps with her arms straight over her head and probably will for the rest of her life. She lights up the room with her energy, sense of humor and love for life and everyone in it — besides Ruby. I think she hates Ruby.
Now she's two, and she's going to school and she's learning more and more each day. She is polite with her "Peeeasse" and "Tank Tu"s. She drinks copious amounts of "nuke" and eats far too many "nummies" (raisins). Her favorite toys are mom and dad's keys and when someone comes to the front door she makes an "O" with her mouth and then turn and sprints toward the visitor. She climbs up on everything she can, stands tall and spreads her arms as she proclaims "Lyla!"
More years will pass, probably more quickly as they come, and as sad as it makes me in some moments, I am moved to a different kind of tears when I imagine the young woman I am going to get to watch this little bean become. Look out world. Here comes "Lyla!"