100 Things I love About Harlow (give or take 80)

Happy Birthday, sweetness. You are two. You know how I know this? Neverminding the easy peasy labor and the shock of your non-boyness 2 years ago today. This morning, you threw yourself onto the floor and screamed because I asked if you wanted apple juice. Welcome to Two. Mama will take two xanax to mark the occasion.

We had a Bollywood brunch to honor the big day, followed by dinner at India Palace. Tea and scones represented the colonized India portion, and cardamom spiced scrambled eggs, paisley-adorned cakes and Bollywood on the soundtrack made us a dance move away from a full on birthday musical.

In honor of your birthday, the following are things you, your future spouse, your employer, your millions of fans when you become famous and your mother when her cheesehole brain finally goes kaput would like to know about you at two.


You love the color pink, closely followed by yellow.

Babaganouj, kalamata olives and peas are your favorite foods. We will have a good laugh about this over nuggets in the near future.

You dig your pink kitchen.

If I am holding a wine glass and you a sippy cup, you say "Cheers!" and we clink glasses. This also extends to anything identical - we "cheers!" over bath toys, kitchen pots and markers.

You're never happier than when you are playing in the herb garden. You thrive on dirt.

When someone gets too close to your turf, you repel them with a hand and a high pitched squeal like you are a crazy anime superhero. It's quite something.

You bring to mind the Gerber baby in many a stranger as they tell us this often.

You really don't like wearing clothes.

You've been to the beach twice in your life, but rarely a day goes by that you don't ask about it.

You are a budding artist, drawing constantly. Sometimes even on paper. Fortunately the couch is slip covered.


Things I love about you:

The look on your face when you learned of the existence of a cookie cake

Your impression of an elephant, informed by your mother's horrific attempt at the same

the way your hair curls like mine

the way your nose points up like your daddy's

how you love to dance and spin in a circle

How you shake it like a Pom-Pom on the way to PDO, and then ask for more Missy Elliott.

Your daddy says: everything. Can't compete with that.

Happy Birthday baby girl. We love you so.