Getting from one to two was hard work. There was this whole business of learning how things work. Learning that feet can get you places and things have names. Learning that some things make you happy and some things make you sad. Learning that you have walking feet and running feet. You have an inside voice and an outside voice. There are so many amazing things you can do!
You know a lot more than five words now. You know too many words for me to count. And you know some words that amaze me! Like the word “terrorist”, when you pointed to the helicopter flying overhead. I don’t know where you learned that word and how you made the association with a helicopter, but it broke my heart. Then there are the funny words you know, that you use to name things. My favorite is still “breakfast flower and toes” for your first fried egg with toast.
Then there was the time we were looking at that beautiful and priceless temple rubbing from Angkor Watt that hangs above the dining room table. I remember thinking that when I was your age, I thought it was a picture from Disney’s “The Jungle Book”. And I would listen to the story on the record player and fall asleep and the picture would come to life. But you look at that picture and you see the elephants (“elepheee!”) and you see the wheels (“circle!”)…and then you look at the two women squatting down drinking from water skins in the middle of the picture and say “Pooping!!! Pooping!!!” and I can’t help but laugh.
I love that now you know who Santa is. I remember that while we were at the grocery store, you were throwing a tantrum and I told you to be good because I thought I saw Santa. Then, while we were in line, a bearded man wearing a red coat stood behind us and you breathed in amazement “Santa!” and were completely awestruck, even though you didn’t learn until a few days later why Santa was so special.
I love that the first thing that you colored that was a real thing with a name was with yellow chalk on our front steps and you told me that it was “French fries”. I love that you can draw squiggles and wiggles and French fries. I love that for a while there, all lights were “moon” and that even though it’s scientifically accurate, you still call the sun “day star” instead of sun. I love that white is “star” and red is “fire hot” and blue is “water” and yellow is “French fry” and brown is “poop”. What is a little more embarrassing is when we go to the grocery and you say “Mumma! Mr. Poop! Mr. Poop!” because you have noticed for the very first time that people can come in different colors.
I love that you want to know what everything is. I love that you even have a sense of humor about it. You asked a few months ago “Ussat? Ussat?” while pointing to a jungle book. “Hippopotamus.” I told you, and you looked at me in all your wisdom and skepticism and said, “Silly Mom! Ussat?” “It’s called a hippopotamus.” I told you again. You laughed, like it was the funniest joke you’d ever heard. “Silly Mom! Silly pot-um-puss!”
You love to read. You are perfectly content to nap with Teddy and Pizza (another teddy bear) and read them your books. You have had two favorite toys this year too. While Teddy has been a constant companion of yours since you were almost 6 months old, and Pizza more recent, I’m sorry to embarrass you by saying this…but you still love your purse. You love to put things in it and take them back out. You love to put mommy’s makeup brushes in the purse and a comb and for a little while you had 4 Q-tips. Now we’ve progressed to adding crayons. You didn’t even want to go out to dinner without your purse and you insisted on carrying it in looped over your elbow.
Also, you love to dance. You spent hours asking for “Eeeecey!” Beyonce’s “All the Single Ladies” is your favorite song. You can’t help but dance. You even practiced her moves, kicking your legs when she does, squatting down to the floor when she does…but for the most part, you just march around in circles.
On car rides, you sing. You sing these A-tonal songs with words you have made up that sound almost like real words. You love to sing. My favorite part of the car ride is if I sing a song and you join in with you own sweet little toddler tune.
Your best friend is still Grandpa. You sometimes wake up from a nap and ask to see Grandpa. You talk about him and talk to him. You share your treasures with him and snuggle with him a nd ride on the tractor with him. You like Grandma too. You like to show me pictures of people you know and name them. “Gumpa! Gumma! Logi! Chelle! Alec! Willy! Daddy!!!”
And you miss your daddy so much when he has to go away for work. But we’re very lucky. Some little boys have fathers that drive truck, or work on ships, or are doctors or in the military other professions that take them away from their families for very long periods of time. They get to see their daddy or mommy even less. But this is just the way it is right now, and although we all wish we could spend more time together, the time we do have is golden and priceless.
There are so many many things I would like to tell you! You are just like your mom and dad in so many respects. You are stubborn and creative and logical. You have endless curiosity! You love your kitties and your puppies even though, for the most part they are terrified of you (except Ernie who will tolerate you for about 30 seconds before he puts his paw on your face and warns you to back away or the claws will come out).
I have worries, like every mother, that there are some things I could be doing better. I want only the best things for you, and believe it or not, sometimes I’m not very good at being a mommy. I feel so bad if I have yelled at you when I could have simply redirected your activities. I feel terrible when we have our battles of will; when time-out is no longer about whatever infraction caused it in the first place, but your refusal to say you are sorry. It makes me sad for you when I have a migraine and Daddy is on the road so you spend half the day playing in your crib and the other half with a mommy who just wishes you could play quietly and not get into trouble.
I may not be the perfect mom, but I’m a good mom…And even though I don’t have infinite amounts of mommy patience, I do have infinite amounts of love for you. Your daddy and I both do. So happy birthday, my son, and good luck. I hear getting from two to three is even harder…but don’t worry, you don’t have to do it on your own. I’ll be here to help you and so will Daddy.
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