Happy Birthday, HoneyBunny

She's two.  

She's magnificent.

Her big eyes miss nothing, from the squirrels (announced in Russian) scampering on the fence to the tiniest little booboo on her finger.  Immediate attention is required, and her persistence makes it so.

She climbs and jumps and slides higher and faster than the 3 year olds at the park.  It's her happy place, down a short path from her front yard, filled with all manner of potential adventures.  Sometimes the tan bark ground cover, sometimes the faux steering wheel, sometimes the swings, but always the park.

She loves her baby brother, treating her two little baby dolls the same way Mommy treats him.  When the little human isn't in his car seat or his high chair or his napping pad, those plastic babies take his place.  After checking with them, she is glad to assure anyone nearby that they are okay.

Okay, baby? from the mouth of one who was the baby until two months ago is possibly the cutest thing I've heard in recent times.

Her Daddy is improving his pony tail skills; today she had a top knot and a low pony.  Many colored barrettes keep the strands out of her face.  Not long ago we wondered if she'd ever grow hair to be styled.

She gave us a concert on our last video chat.  Old MacDonald led off, followed by fifteen minutes of songs she's heard at day care or on tv.  Most of the words were intelligible.  Her enthusiasm was contagious.  Her grandparents could not stop beaming.

She's not feeling well today, so her cupcakes at day care will have to wait until she recovers.  But birthday wishes will still flow her way, starting with this one, at 12:00am, the first one of the day.

Happy Birthday, HoneyBunny.  Grandma loves you a lot.