Tomorrow is your second birthday. We will wake up and celebrate together, then Daddy and I are going away for a few days. We will miss you very much, but we'll all be OK. We'll observe your birthday in proper style in a couple of weeks-- lucky for us time doesn't mean much to you right now.
It means a lot to us, and the fact that you are turning "doo" is mindblowing. I'm the mother of a two-year-old. No longer a baby. A sweet, gentle, loving two-year-old who adores cuddling and story time and playing with your Thomas trains and Muppets collection. A stubborn, willful two-year-old who can't be made to put on a shirt or get through the night without demanding to be taken into our bed. A perfect two-year-old, because you are you.
With your crazy, curly, "look at the cute little girl" hair, your trusty, sturdy legs, your sticky-outy belly, your sweet delicious face. We've come so far since your last birthday. Walking! Talking! No more bottle! Catching a ball! Enjoying the sandbox! Singing and clapping and dancing and participating in your music class! You understand everything, and can communicate your preferences.
As you challenge us in different ways than you did a year ago, two years ago, our love has only grown, only expanded, and I know that this will be truer by the year.
Happy one-day-early second birthday to our boy, our joy, our Chucko-buddy-lovie-dude.
Forever and always, Mama.
So sweet. Made me cry. Happy birthday to your little man.
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