Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Another birthday: TWO

My darling,


It seems like mere hours since we brought you home from the hospital, and not two years. I am aghast at how fast the days are going by, and I now have an appreciation for the cliché advice to enjoy every moment as they really do blaze on by. The other night, while you laid in my arms, I thought how there is a fragment of my heart that hurts thinking that the toddler in my arms – long legs spilling over, parroting every word I say, dark, long eyelashes framing the loveliest brown eyes I’ve ever gazed into – is not the squalling helpless infant I brought home, but overall I feel like turning two is the start of something beautiful.

The last six months has been full of wonderful changes for our little family: you lived with your maternal grandparents for a month, we’ve moved across the state and we welcomed your baby sister to our family. I’m pointing this out because all of these changes taught me something about you: you take life in stride. For weeks your world was thrown into a tailspin – your routine completely changed, your surroundings different, and your parents focus was split. Your life was thrown for a loop, and through it all continued to be the sweetest, loving and oh so very polite toddler. Suddenly, you seemed to me to be an example of the person I would like to be: flexible, gracious, and wildly happy.

In addition to the chaos of our lives, these last few months have been a time of incredible growth for you – both physically and developmentally. Not only have you put on nearly five pounds finally reaching a solid 25 pounds and 33 inches, but you now make jokes! You can count to eleven! You sing your ABC’s and Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. You can string words together to communicate a point! You tell stories! You still don’t know your colors (save pink and yellow), but  honey, we are working hard on that.

I know I’ve said this before and I’m sure I’ll say it again, but watching you grow and learn is such an awesome gift. Every day you make new connections that astound your father and me, and every day we are struck by just how thankful we are to have you in our lives. We love our dinner time conversations, in which you consistently amaze us with something new you learned that day. You, sweet pea, make us incredibly happy, and I hope you always remember that.

There is a lot of talk that parenting is the most difficult job in the world, and I’m slowly realizing this is true. It’s not because it’s hard to keep you fed, clean and safe, nor is it the sleep deprivation, but because if your father and I do it right, one day we have to let you go. You will no longer be the toddler who cries out for mommy when you scrape your knee, or wants her to sing a million renditions of a Bicycle Built for Two.

So, right now I plan to cherish every single second with you; even when you request another round of Row, Row, Row Your Boat at four in the morning.

I love to you more than the moon, the sun, and all the water in the ocean,



Lara said...

My heart hurts reading this. What a great writer you are!!! LOVE YOU :)

Jenn said...

My goodness! This is so beautiful! It goes by way too fast!