2 Years

Somehow, against all my disbelief, you are two years old. This year you have gone from first words and first steps to running and sentences. It's amazing how quickly and yet how slowly some of these changes happen. I feel lucky to have modern media to record random daily snippets of your voice at 14 months, the way you couldn't quite pronounce the "sh" of "shoes." And yet today you say this word perfectly. When did that happen? I don't know. I missed the day, the moment you could. Most likely I was there, but oh my baby boy, how these things pass by so quickly.

This year you have challenged me to be even more patient than last year. You have challenged me to know where the balance is between you, me, and our family - whose needs come first right in this moment? You have challenged me to be more silly, to be more present, to expect both less and more (of myself, of you).

I don't have 24 things to say this month. Instead, I have 24,000 times the amount of love I had for you the moment you were born. Somehow, against all the logic I thought I understood, you have shown me how love grows each day.

At 24 months old, you tell stories. You still love being outside. You play with your toys, like actually play with them (you motion your little people to climb aboard the bus and will say "up, up, up, ok, bye bye!"). You laugh with pure joy. You furrow your brow when reading books. You can climb and descend steps completely unassisted. You have asked baby sister to come out of mama's belly. You point out letters on any sign or vehicle. You love milk. You wrestle with increasing strength. You are starting to put your shoes on and off. You enjoy laying in your crib upon waking; you are a slow riser.

You know that your birthday consists of "presents and ice cream and 'Happy Birthday!'" And what a happy, happy day it is.