23 Months Old

Little G is now a couple of days past 23 months old. I think once she hits 2 years old I will stop counting in months. She is changing and growing so much. She tries to sing along with me now and can demand which song she would like to hear. "No Mommy - game!" means sing Take Me Out to the Ballgame. She can count to 10 almost consistently now. Sometimes she needs a little help. She is trying to say her alphabet and loves the LMNOP part. She is also throwing the craziest tantrums where she loses her ever-loving mind. I am learning how to deal with them, but when she throws one in the morning when I'm trying to get us both out the door it can be a little bit stressful. I am just gearing up for her birthday party next month. Trying to get us organized and realizing that we are going to be inundated with new toys, which means we will have to go through her existing toys and put them away/donate them. I would like to have a yardsale next year to deal with all of her stuff. Her birthday will be closely followed by Christmas, so we are starting to indoctrinate her into the Christmas festivities. I think she's still a little young to really grasp the concept. But, we're going to bring her to see Santa again this year and maybe we'll get a non-screaming picture. I have over-indulged and bought her two Christmas outfits so she has something to wear on both Christmas Eve and Christmas day. I love this time of year and want to give her the best memories. There is one thought that is adding a little gloom to the season. I am really missing my lost twins. I look at how amazing G is and I can't help but wonder what they would have been like. How crazy would our ilfe have been? Most of all, I realize that I'm not done. I want another baby. I want G to have a brother or sister to play with on Christmas morning. When I peel away all of the layers of why we shouldn't be having another baby, I get down to the basic kernel that I don't feel like I'm done.