Theledge.net

Hi, Bettie. I know I haven’t written much, and I’m sorry about that. Unfortunately, this post isn’t going to change (or explain) that.

I did want to tell you that you are remarkably different from your sister. I know that I’m not really going to do a great job of expressing this idea, but I wanted to try.

The main thing I see at this stage is that you have a slightly different sense of humor from your sister. While your sister sought humor like a big game hunter looking to find the biggest animal she could find, you have a quiet way of expressing humor that you see in the world. For example, you’ve previously seemed to put things on your head just to see how people reacted to you.

And just the other day, shortly after figuring out your exersaucer had a mirror, you did this:

I am sure you were experimenting with how the mirror changed your perspective, but it also seemed like you were interested in how we reacted to you looking at us in the mirror.

And you sure were smiling as you did it...

As long as you wake up on your own, you wake up pretty easy.

For example, this morning you woke up a little bit, stretched, looked at your mother and said:

I am hatched from my egg.

A few minutes later and you were digging around your room for some clothes to put on.

Today was your third birthday. You had a party with some friends, some family, some cake, and some fun.

And I could go on and on about how much you have changed since you came home, but it would be gushy and sentimental.

Instead, I will tell you my best story from today.

As you were getting ready for bed this evening, you took a quick bath.

You really needed one, to since you had managed to spill a variety of things on yourself in the course of the day. You actually pleaded with me that you needed to wash yourself off, and your legs were sticky enough to warrant a small dunking.

So I ran the water, you got in, we did a quick bath, and then you got out. Quick and easy, no distractions.

And then I said “Ok, let me get you your towel!”

And you said “Why?”

And I said “Because you are all wet!”

To which you responded “I not all wet!”

You do this quite a bit, this stubborn for the sake of stubborn. It isn’t really exasperating because you do it good-naturedly, but it can definitely put the brakes on any momentum we have generated. So I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing really sprang to mind. Fortunately, you rescued me.

You looked down at yourself with a critical eye and then looked back to me and said “Wait. Yes I am!” with a big grin on your face.

And that is how much you have changed in three years.

It is never good when you have to preface a joke to make the punch line funny. I think that is one of the first rules of comedy.

In order to get this joke, you have to know two things about our lives.

Prepare yourself not to laugh at something we thought was über-funny.

First required information: Alphie refers to one of her grandmothers (Angie’s mom, Anne) as “Guinea”. Or perhaps “Grinnie”. She loves “Grinnie”, if only because Anne bribes her with food and even brings our dog over now and then.

Second required information: We have been trying to sell our house for months. It is not going well. We are caught in a market with high inventory. In an area where high priced homes are moving, while mid-range homes (as ours is) are not. Surrounded by builders who continue to build even though they aren’t selling any houses, either. With a floor-plan that we enjoy but would be considered “non-traditional”.

Not that I have rationalized why no-one wants our house or anything.

Side-note (to destroy the humor factor even further): This is why Anne brings our dog over to visit us from time to time. The dog, who is not receptive to letting strangers wander through his house now and then, has been living at Anne and Frank’s the entire time the house has been on the market. They are saints.

So, now for the actual story I am aching to tell you.

Today, at lunch in a restaurant, Angie and I attempted to hold a conversation about whether we should keep the house on the market or just take it off the market for a while and try to enjoy ourselves for a little while.

Now, having a conversation around Alphie while not addressing her directly is somewhat difficult. She insists that she be included, even if it is simply a matter of us talking to her while actually saying what we want to say to one another.

I am sure that this looks perfectly normal to passersby. Surely they immediately spring to the conclusion that we love our daughter and wish her to be deeply involved in all the financial decisions in our lives, and not that Angie and I have trouble addressing one another directly and are really passive aggressive.

And so, Angie and I had a wonderful conversation with our two year old about what we should do with the house.

And, at some point, Angie asked our precocious little girl, “Should we sell the house and move?”

To which the instantaneous reply was an emphatic “Yes!”

And so Angie asked the obvious follow up question “Where should we move to?”

Alphie paused to consider the question for a few seconds before yelling “Grinnie’s”.

Who knew that two year olds had preferences?