Lyssabelle. Syssa. Where do I even begin with this girl?
My dear Syssa,
When I imagine myself at age two, I picture you. You are such a character, full of spunk, determination, and sweetness. You are probably more sweet than I was! My days with you are a roller coaster. One second, you are yelling in frustration as you are trying to master a new skill, which you want to figure out and problem solve and complete ALL BY YOURSELF. You have been getting yourself dressed since you were 18 months old, including shoes. You have even taught yourself how to successfully wear socks with flip flops. You can put yourself in footed zip up pajamas. Best of all, you have learned that there are some limitations to your abilities, so after trying a few times, you will ask me to help you do the final snap or to hold your diaper down so you can pull your pre-snapped pants over it. You are insistent about doing things yourself, and often times your learning is accompanied by weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth (though I have recently taught you to say "this is really really hard!" instead of yelling. at least sometimes). Amazingly, once the task is mastered or the tricky shoes are on, you come bouncing out of your room, so proud and ready to show me the great skill you have learned. You don't carry resentment or frustration. Once the hard thing is done, you are right back to your sweet, cheery self.
You are my little singer. Your adorable mispronunciations and sing-song melodies (which are fairly true to pitch) fill the house. And the car. And the hallway, late at night when I think you are sleeping. Your favorite songs to sing: I am a child of God, I love to see the temple, the family name songs (Scotty, Nani, Papa, Lyssabelle, Rachel), The Wise Man and the "Fuelish" Man, Follow the Prophet, and Pickle Pickle Little Star. Last week, after dropping Scotty off at a birthday party, I thought you might be sad to be left behind. I asked you if you had a happy face about a special outing with Mama, and you treated me to "no one likes a frowny face, change it for a "file" - both verses, on endless repeat. I smiled all the way home. A month ago we were celebrating a typical Saturday in LarsenLand; when the college football refs signaled for a false start, you joined right in with them: "do as I'm doing, follow, follow me." Following in your brother's footsteps via bed time song requests, you have walking around the house this week singing "Jingle Bells, Batman smells." Sometimes I forget that you are only two because you carry on such intelligent, two-sided conversation. "How was your day at school today, mama? Did anyone choose to do bad things?" Your dad and I often exchange bemused and amused smiles over your antics.
From birth you have struck me as such an expressive little girl. You pulled tremendous faces! You have since learned how to use those big green eyes of yours. You flash them at me with shrugged shoulders and a sweet impish smile when you are being a mischievous. You are quick to lower your eyebrows and give daddy the evil eye if he starts teasing you, calling you a silly goose (you always reply: "I'm not a silly goose! I am TWO!"). You still unconsciously sign please when you ask nicely.
Basically, every day with you is an adventure. I am always wondering what new thing you are going to try, and master. Because you never give up. I am so delighted to have you for a daughter!
All my love,
Mama
P.S. I'm amazed that with your determination and independence that you are still content to wear diapers. I'm definitely not going to push that issue until you tell me you are ready! I don't think I could survive the pushback :)
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