Dear sage 2 years. (This first paragraph is the blog post I started when you were 24 months old. I never finished it.) All in about 15 seconds, Sage wailed “NO!” in my face, arched her back, screamed, tears poured down her cheeks and then she tried to hit me. Next in a complete 180, she threw her arms around my neck and said, “I love you mamma.” Umm…welcome to the twos??? (This next paragraph is what I wrote when you were 27 months old. July 2014) These last 3 months since you turned two are the host of my first real struggles as a mother. I haven’t written your 2 year old blog post yet because I was sincerely afraid that I would sit down to write and have nothing nice to say. Daddy encouraged me to just write what I felt and that if you ever read this as an older child we would help you understand the complexities of Motherhood. So here is how I felt July 2014. I used to love my daughter. She was magical, buttery, perfection in every way. Her baby gurgles, her plump cheeks, and her tiny little toes. I loved her with so much passion I could barely contain the intensity. I loved her wordless fits at 15months old over wanting to ride the escalator one more time. I loved the mess she made of herself when trying to get a handful of sweet potatoes in her mouth. I loved watching her strut around with the confidence of a new walker. I loved every little movement, tantrum, new word, and expression. My patience rivaled Mother Teresa. Then she turned two. And I stopped loving my daughter. Day breaks with a smack in the face. Followed by the gentle holding of her hand while I say, “Mommy will not let you hit.” I release her hand and the catapult releases another more powerful smack in the face. Our morning continues with wanting eggs and then not wanting eggs. “Please give me food mommy” turns into an upside down plate on the floor with rays of scrambled eggs shooting in every direction. Underwear must go on backwards, she screams that she can put her tank top on herself (she can’t). Then she screams about that. She wants to wear my thong to the grocery store. I don’t let her. She screams. Putting my sweet baby girl in her car seat has become what I imagine takes place when trying to restrain a rabid raccoon with a buckle. “Mommy don’t drive,” “Sagey do it,” “NO carseat,” “Sagey drive,” “Dolly goes in car seat not Sagey,” “I need a blanket.” Mix in a few kicks and punches and you get the picture. The rose colored lens has started oozing dragon warts and green slime. When I was dreaming for my baby, this is not what I signed up for. I follow the trendy parenting blogs. I read until my eyes cross. I call my psychologist best friend and welcome her tips and insight. I am doing everything right. We don’t watch TV, she eats organic food, I have miraculously come up with a million different things to say in replace of the word, “no.” There isn’t one toy in my house that makes noise. She paints, climbs, swims, runs…I offer two choices every time I need her to do something. I am doing everything right yet somehow everything is turning out wrong. She’s a monster. Yes of course I have heard of the terrible twos. Yes I get it, it’s hard. But this? This is not hard. It’s torture. It’s day in and day out of nails on a chalk board, swallowing fiery coals, ripping our your fingernails torture. I would sign up for a half-ironman a week to replace this emotional nightmare. I am told it passes. I am told that thanks to all my hard work her teachers will love her. This is the grind, this is what makes a fabulous middle schooler. My thoughts? This is bullshit. She’s two and I stopped loving my daughter. So there you have it. My feelings out there for you to read. Clearly, that was a low point. Almost immediately after writing that narrative, I started doing a lot of yoga. It helped. Within a week or two just around the beginning of August (your 28th month)  I turned a corner, you turned a corner and we quickly got back on track. You are again the adorable, melt-my-heart, cuddly, sweet, rosy cheeked, angel that I love so much. You are also hilarious. You’re talking so much and the things you say constantly make me burst out laughing. Despite how frustrated I was with you I did manage to write down some favorite Sage-is-two moments:

• You call Trader Joes “Dodda Does” and we cannot leave there without you asking the cashier for stickers which you then proceed to stick all over your legs.
• You LOVE singing “the wheels on the bus” and you have many different renditions. Mamma says, “I love you shh shhh.” Daddy says, “I love you,” Gigi “cooks me food.”
• You love singing the goodbye song from swimming class. “Goodbye Sagey, goodbye Sagey, goodbye Sagey, See you again next time.” You have made me sing this for what feels like hours. Saying goodbye to every single person and animal you know.
• You sometimes call us by our first names which is hilarious. “Hey Liiiiiiiz!” It goes up and then down like a doorbell. “Hey Petah!”
• You are still really into climbing. When we get on the elevator at the gym you walk your feet up the wall and hang upside down from the handrail. People look at me like I am crazy for letting you do it.
• You are fine getting dropped off at gym daycare because you love going there to take care of the baby dolls.
• You adore babies of all kind. Real and pretend. You love talking about them, looking at them, taking care of them.
• You love pretending to cook. Sometimes I think we need to get you a lot more toy food and a pretend refrigerator. Maybe for Christmas.
• You love broccoli. And, to add to that point you are a great eater. You will eat almost anything.
• You are skinny, wiry, but strong. You can pull up and hang from anything and enjoy getting yourself into interesting balancing positions between two stationary objects.
• (May)You are still nervous in and around the Ocean. We are working on that by taking you surfing and we think you are slowly improving. On the way to the beach you tell us how much you don’t like the beach and that you do not want to go surfing. Once you are out there though you love it. Then it comes time to catch a wave. You start crying as Daddy paddles for it but once you are up and cruising along you are fine again. We are hoping that making this a regular outing will help you get more happy and comfortable
• (May) We started swimming lessons and at first you were very unhappy about going underwater. Then we got you some goggles and everything changed. You love it and can even swim a little underwater by yourself between Daddy and me.
• At some point you actually said, “Mommy go away and clean the kitchen”
• The other day you said to me, “mommy no talk. Sage talk to everyone.”
• You call granola “mugga mugga”
• Strawberries are “bobelez”
• Tomatoes are “mel-uh-lulus”
• Oatmeal is “opa-meal”
• One meal you ate and loved was rosemary bread with tomato, avocado, and lemon pepper
• We never make special meals just for you. You eat everything we eat. You don’t really have a favorite food
• Eating most often gets in the way of your playtime and is an inconvenience.
• You like to put your hand out like you are a stop sign and say, “Mommy DO NOT.”
• As of July 27^th you can count to 14
• (August) You know your left and right. This one completely baffles me but you do. We keep testing this with the presumption that you are just getting lucky but you get it correct every time.
• When I try to take a bite of your food you sometimes say, “Get your own.”
• You often say, “You’ve got to do that!” or We’ve got to do that!”
• My very favorite Sageism is the most recent, “Let’s sit on this rock and take a deep breath.”

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