My littlest girly turned two this week.

I hear her awake after her nap most days, singing to herself, “Hap Bir-day ME!!!  Hap Bir-day ME!!!!”  Peeking into her door, I whisper, “Eliza! Did you have a birthday!?”  She nods her head up and down.  “YEAH!”

“How old are you?”  I say.  And she raises the pointer finger on both hands, puts them right next to each cheek and says, “Two-ah!”

She got new blue shoes with birds on them, which are her three favorite things (blue, shoes, birds).  How could I not get them for her?

And then there was the rocking horse from Papa and Dotsey that she promptly named “Eliza Grace” and then renamed “Hee-hee-hee-hee”.

Ah, we love her.

A few weeks ago, she walked up to a picture and said, “Baby?  Annie?  Me?”  She was asking me if the baby in the picture was her or Annie.  Allowing her to enter into our grief hurts a little sometimes.  She is so joyful and innocent and I wonder how this will touch her.  Will she get it?  Will she feel slighted that she wasn’t part of us when it happened?

The story of our family goes on . . . and oh, I’m just so glad that I have the privilege of raising this one.

Happy Two-ah Birthday, Little E.

P.S.  Language development?  Well, it’s a beautiful thing.  Unfortunately, Eliza is bringing many laughs to her siblings as she works certain letter sounds out.  Her word for soup:  poop.  Her word for coffee: pee-pee.  As if that’s not bad enough, she looked at me and exclaimed yesterday, “I’m TOOT!”  (cute). William and Kate were rolling.