Dear Daphne – 2 Years

You are two today.


How is it possible that it’s been a year since I wrote this?

And in the way of a securing another gift for yourself today, you made the bold decision to climb out of your crib last night at 4:30 in the morning, and crashed to the floor. A fall of roughly 4 1/2 feet.

This was taken on the morning of your first birthday.  You just fell from up there.

I’m amazed you didn’t seriously hurt yourself and we didn’t have to begin your birthday in the ER.

You performed this daring leap because you were furious at me for putting you back into said crib after you woke up at 2am and spent the following 3 hours kicking me in the face. How dare I disrupt such an important process?

So your mother and I will be on the hunt for a toddler bed for you at some point this weekend. Perhaps there might even be a birthday gift card that will assist us in this endeavor.

I’ll also say that it has not been the easiest 6 months since I wrote your last Dear Daphne. In fact, this last month has been one of the most difficult of your daddy’s entire life. He is so very worried about you and your future. But your speech and development therapy should begin next month, and your mommy and I are ever hopeful for your progress. We’re doing everything we can to help you.

You, however, are still the same happy little girl you’ve always been. We still read to you an average of 40 books per day. Sometimes it’s the same book 7 or 8 times (Dancing with Degas, One Green Frog, and yes, The Pout Pout Fish are the usual suspects), and sometimes it’s one and done, and you fling it over your shoulder with authority while looking for the next title.

These were taken during a morning reading from, “BUSY CHICKENS!” 

You have definitely become more of an outdoorsy girl these past 6 months, and often stare out the window, waiting for one of us to take you out of the house. (Your grandma is often the one in charge of such outings.) You also love walking around Gramps & Nana’s backyard and looking at the water back there.

And you adore the Leapfrog ABC Bus Magnets you got for Christmas from Auntie Am and Uncle D. It’s the first thing you do when we get out of bed in the morning. You particularly like it when Daddy repeats, “Don’t forget your backpack!” for the letter “B.”

“Say it!”

We are trying to expand your gastronomic repertoire a bit, but we’re getting significant pushback from your finicky toddler palate. For example, the chicken parmesan we made last night went over like a lead balloon. And yet you love pasta with red sauce, cheese, and chicken strips. It would seem you love them consecutively, not concurrently.

And apple juice.

All the Martinelli’s apple juice.

You are indeed your father’s daughter…

Happy birthday, my little girl. You and your mommy are the brightest, shining joys in my life, and I would be lost without you both. I’m so proud, every day, to be the daddy of such a beautiful and wonderful daughter.

I love you more than you will ever know.


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