I couldn't go to bed today without at least a quick happy birthday post. Our little baby boy is two today. Two years ago I was trying to fall asleep in a hospital chair. . . unsuccessfully I might add. It's been a wild ride since then. I'm sure it'll only get wilder.
The other day our little monkey bolted out of the kitchen—where I was—through the living room—where his mother was—and down the hall—where, well, no one was. Then he said in his cute little voice, “where mommy go, where daddy go?”
Then he ran back down the hall to the living room, “hi mommy!” Then to the kitchen, “hi daddy!” Then he went right back down the hallway and started the whole things over again.
It could have been the little bit if icing we let him eat (I was working on a cake), or just that he got too long of a nap, but he did that 10-12 times and then sat and played with his trains like the whole thing never happened.
You always hear people say “they grow up so fast” or “enjoy them being little while it lasts.” You roll your eyes and ignore the words. Then a couple years blow by and the next thing you know you have a two-year-old who is very good at what two-year-olds do. You wonder when that little, cubby monkey that used to fit in your armpit while napping was replaced by this long, hyper ball of arms and legs. All you can do is assume that someone snuck in and replaced them while they were sleeping
He's talking. No, REALLY talking, not that babbling that he used to do. Real words. AND he's expressing thoughts and ideas. Four or five words phrases sometimes. I know some adults incapable of that. He plays. . . really plays. He uses his toys to tell stories. He names toys that don't come with names. He tells people and things hello and goodbye. He asks us questions, he gives us answers. . .
And it's only going to get worse. I know we're in for more of this. More words, more playing, more real human actions and emotions. He's this whole other person who will be in my life forever. His personality, his mannerisms. . . they're going to be there for years. Before he was just a little lump, something that needed our constant care. Now he's becoming a person.
I know it's early, but his annoying habits are endearing to me. His attitude makes me smile. He has his toddler moments, but he's still mine. . . no, strike that, I'm still his. I hope nothing ever changes that.