I’ve spent the last couple of months referring to you as a one-year-old, which your Daddy was quick to point out wasn’t exactly true anymore. And I KNOW that you’re two; it’s painfully obvious as we drive down the street and you sing songs from the radio verbatim (or tonight, when you waltzed into the room singing, “Girl, look at that body- I WORK OUT!“), or when I try to help you down stairs and you tell me, “I do it by self!” Oh, and where did this “Mom” business come from all of a sudden?? I’m MOMMY.
It’s just that two means you’re not a baby anymore. A one-year-old still nurses, still gums Cheerios with 5 teeth, still needs a hand to hold as they toddle down the sidewalk. You can still think of a one-year-old as a baby. Not you. In the past year you’ve developed into your own, independent little person, and it’s been the most wonderful and fascinating experience watching that personality emerge.
First of all, you’re the happiest child a mother could ask for. You find joy in everything, from interactions with strangers, to spotting an airplane in the sky, to feeding Chloe your grilled cheese sandwiches. Every morning you greet me from the crib with a smile and a random compliment (Mommy, I like your eyebrows!). Your positive outlook and joy are contagious and have made me step back and enjoy life even more.
You love to learn. Right now you’re obsessed with letters, constantly asking us to, “Draw an A, draw an M, draw a J…” or pointing out letters and numbers on signs. You’ve gotten colors down, too, and never seem to get your fill of books. I hope you always maintain that love of learning, that you continue to seek out knowledge because you WANT to, not because of any external pressure (though obviously you better get straight A’s or we’re taking away your allowance).
You’re a loving boy, sweet with your friends, kind to Chloe (most of the time) and affectionate to everyone. You insist that Mommy’s freckles are “Owie’s” and kiss them daily. You’re always eager to talk on the telephone to your grandparents, aunts and uncles and tell them you love them.
That’s not to say that you don’t have your moments. Messes have been made. MANY messes. Just this morning I was in the shower and heard you laughing hysterically. I peered out to find you pouring your milk all over the bedroom rug and watching Chloe lick it up. I literally have to chase you down in order to get you from the house to the car, you’ve turned the house into your own personal crayon canvas and my phone has sent many mysterious, jibberish text messages to friends (that’s not to speak of the CALLS you routinely make to Uncle Zach).
(Not that I would tell you this now, but you’re hilarious. I constantly have to cover my mouth to keep from laughing as I’m telling you, “NO! We do not feed crayons to Chloe!”)
So thanks for being such an awesome kid. Being your mom is more fun than I could have ever imagined. Every day you amaze me countless times, bring hundreds of smiles to my face and make me the proudest mama imaginable. So while I do miss the baby days where I could snuggle you for hours on end, I can’t wait to see what the next year brings. I love you, sweet Jack. Happy Birthday!