Okay, so you wouldn’t mean by this that you are as amazed as your Mama that it has been two whole years since I popped you out at 5:20 pm and my whole life changed. When you say, “Oh, No, Two!” it is an exclamation of surprise at seeing another of something; another airplane or truck or car or tree. It is especially humorous when you see another tree, and there are hundreds of them around. I love that you take the time to look at trees individually, that when we go out the front door to get to the car, you walk around to the side your carseat is on, but walk right past and go straight to the tree next to the garage. You say, “tree” as you walk up to it and touch its trunk and then i have to say about fifty times, “Rollie, let’s get in the car. We gotta go.”
I am amazed every day at how much you have changed from the little alien blob that we brought home from the hospital on that muggy, rainbow-showered day. Just this week, you have started sleeping in a big boy bed, complete with very big boy cowboy sheets. We made a huge production out of the sheets, studying every different object on them. You haven’t learned the words for all of the objects yet (you keep calling the Conestoga wagon a “choo choo”), but i know you will. I spent many months of this year worrying about your speech development – you haven’t started talking as quickly or as much as a lot of the other kids your age, but I know it is not that you aren’t paying attention to everything going on around you, and suddenly, just in the last month, your speech has snowballed. Your favorite words are “choo choo,” “nilk [milk],” “cheese,” “peas” (for both please and peas), “meow” for cat, and “boof” [woof] for dog. You must constantly name everything now, the things that you know and the things that you don’t know; for those, you look questioningly at me or your Daddy, waiting for us to name things. Sometimes it is like I am hearing words for the first time again, as I imagine how they sound to you or wonder what you think when I correct you for calling a plate a bowl, or for calling plants and shrubs “trees.” It is like you see all the similarities in things that are functionally for somewhat the same purpose, but you also take the time to look at every separate object you come across. It sounds cliched, but I really do see the world anew through your eyes, something new every day.
In the past year, you learned to walk, you teethed most of your first 12 teeth, and you learned to crawl up and down steps. This is the year that you started regularly calling me “mama.” This is the year that we found out that you would be a big brother, the year that you will become a big brother, and the year that I have spent wondering how I can ever love another child as much as I adore you. You are my everything and with the experience of two year’s motherhood under my belt, I can say that each year is only going to get better and make me more and more proud of you. Happy Second Birthday, Little Man.