Last month Elle turned two. For me, my children's birthdays are as much a time of mourning as of celebration. On the night before their birthday I have to hold them especially tight and shed a tear knowing this the last time I will hold them at that age. Often I find myself retracting from other areas of my life because I am trying to grasp all I can of their childhood. This is especially true of Elle because she is determined. And that includes determined to grow up. She does not want to follow Max's foot steps but keep stride with him. They are a wonderful pair.

Elle I love you so. During the past year I loved watching you dance. As soon as you were walking you were dancing all over the house. You are a natural and the way your little body moves is so entirely Elle. I prefer your singing from the back seat to any radio station. We will never forget the fearless way you ran straight into the ocean waves the first time you were at the beach. This coupled with your genuine fear of Sandy (the gentle horse ride at the grocery store) is a great irony and mystery that recalls your soft side too. Having Elle in our home is like living with a story book creature. Your voice and sounds are too cute to be real and turn our lives into a make believe world. Your lack of interest in the potty training bring us right back to reality. For the past year (and beyond) I have tried to tame your hair. Your lustrous locks, like the rest of you, are not to be tamed. Elle is confident and will choose for herself. You also have a wild way about you. It is subtle but not to be over looked. This led to your first set of stitches this year. I am confident they will not be your last. You are a great mix of sweet and sassy, soft yet adventurous. Sad as I am to see this year end I am anxious to see what the next one reveals. Happy, unhappy birthday little love.