Month 30

Dear Lia,

Today you are exactly two and a half years old! I hope you didn't think I had stopped writing you letters just because you have a new baby sister. I eased off writing you letters too often because if I had more and more children, like 3 or 8, and I wrote all of you every month, writing letters would be all I would do that I wouldn't have anything to write about. Because I'm too busy writing. Hm.



Anyway, happy two and a half birthday! You are the cutest, most engaging, smartest, lovablest, sweetest, funniest two and a half year old in the world! Seriously, your antics entertain us everyday, and your intelligence impresses us even more often. Just last night, as we were playing as a family, Daddy remarked, "Who says twos are terrible? They're great!" And I said, "Lia, stay that way na lang forever. Don't grow up na. You are perfect."


Of course it would help if you actually learned to do your business in the potty and never wear diapers anymore, ever. But hey, you can't win them all. We spent a large part of the last half year trying to get you to make weewee in the potty successfully. And while Lola Cora was in the States, we had progressed to no accidents at all, and even pooping in the potty consistently. However, you never got the hang of telling us you want to go to the potty *before* actually peeing. It seemed for you sitting on the potty and singing and playing was a game. And if you actually did something was more or less a bonus. When Lola Cora put you back in disposables, and not to mention brought back a mountain of disposable diapers from the States, you regressed to peeing anywhere anytime, so I let go of making you wear panties all the time. It messed your grocery shopping schedule. I guess you just weren't ready to give up diapers yet. At least you haven't completely regressed. You pee in the potty every morning when you wake up, and after meals, and before going to sleep. That's something. And that's enough for now.



Anyway, I don't really mind that you're not potty trained, even if a lot of kids your age already are. Because you can do one thing very very few kids your age can do. You can read. Someday, when you're a teenager and everything your mother does is embarassing, I will tell your friends that you could read when you were only two years old, and you will say, "No way Mom! You're inventing stories again like Daddy." And I will show you this entry to prove it. At first it was just memorizing books like The Owl and the Pussycat, and where the Wild Things Are (I love when you say waiald Fings!) and recognizing certain words when we write it down and show it to you, like Mommy, Baby, Flamingo and other words familiar to you because of flashcards or Baby Einstein. Later on, we noticed you could recognize words we never taught you, like Opposites and Waffle Time. Until finally, it seems you can guess at what words are, by stringing the letters together. When you saw the word Front, you said Fors! when you saw a sign that said TAT, you said Tat! It's not a word, no one taught it to you, but you read it. You can read! Lola Cora was so proud, she brought you to Daddy's old preschool to show you off to Daddy's old preschool teacher. And Mrs. Tugade was so impressed, she gave you a school book which you promptly read the cover of. "We Learn Letters!" You are an amazing genius baby.



Academic achievements aside, I am really proud of the person you are. We were apprehensive about how you would react with a new baby in the house, but all you've been to Desi was gentle and sweet. You don't mind that she plays with your old rattles, or get jealous when Mommy or Yaya or Lola carries her. You rarely throw tantrums anymore. You always try to get your way by asking politely, albeit insistently. The other night, you wanted to paint after dinner (Did I mention you love painting? Just like Mommy!), but it was already time to sleep. You cried because I wouldn't let you, even after you said please so many times. But when I hugged you and told you you could paint tomorrow, after sleeping, and that now it's time to go upstairs and watch a video, you stopped crying and went up with me quietly. Of course the following day, you wanted to paint as soon as you were up! So I let you paint even before breakfast. Way to bind Mommy to her promises.



You are just really fun to be with, with all the funny things you say like "How many balls do you see? Three! Good job Mommy!" and "Is this a marker? No! It's an umbrella!" (but it's really a marker). And the funny things you do. Like, pretend that your spiderman pencil (unsharpened) is a flute. And you play it all the time while singing Doodoodoodoo! And you love to play your little pink guitar while singing nursery rhymes or Happy Monster Band songs. The first night I resurrected that guitar from the "old toys" bin you made Daddy blow a whistle and Mommy and Desi banged on an overturned pail like a drum. We played a tuneless song together and every time anyone stopped, you made us keep going, serious faced and all. It was hilarious, not three years old you're already leading your own band. Lia, you could rule the world.


Right now, you are doing the groceries with Lola Cora, and later, Lola Vinchu will fetch you and you will overnight in Katipunan again. The days when we were completely inseparable are long gone. Desi needs me that way now, and you love hanging out with your relatives and friends. You have a mind of your own, your own likes and dislikes. As you grow up, you will be more and more yourself and less and less my baby. Nevertheless, I still fall in love with every day, and not all the letters in the world can say everything you are to me and how much I love love love you. Because even when you aren't a baby anymore I will always be your Mommy. And mommies never stop loving their children as if they were babies.

Love, Mommy