I did not realize, until the day after his birthday, that I did not cook my son’s birthday dinner. The boyfriend (thankfully) provided dinner for him in the form of a happy meal. Thank you food poisoning for making me so horrendously sick on my kiddos birthday. He loved his chicken nuggets but talk about momma guilt! And happy, very-belated second birthday to my little hurricane.
Traditional moms make baby books. I have not updated Elliott’s in over a year. (I will, someday, when I have more time. I swear. Hopefully.) Some moms make their kids Facebook accounts. Some create email addresses and send letters, important pictures and notes. I blog and Instagram. And #Elliottrulestheworld in case you were wondering.
I feel inclined to say, “I cannot believe over two years have passed since that first moment I held him in my arms,” but that would be a lie. I felt every memory as it happened. I have taken thousands upon thousands of pictures. We have been through so much together, all those baby stages into toddlerhood… It is amazing to me that the same little creature who had so much distain for tummy time learned to sit, crawl, stand, walk and run right before my eyes. The little baby that could sit in the sink for baths now sprawls out in the tub and occupies more than half. From a little shrimp at twenty inches at birth, to almost three feet tall at two! Thirty-five inches to be exact. Seven pounds, eleven ounces at birth to over triple that amount, at a moderate 25 pounds most days.
And it is such a mom thing that seeing those two pictures juxtaposed on this screen is making tears form in my eyes. From two days old to two years and two days old. Amazed, amazed, amazing.
His toddler gibberish has the cutest inflections, but he can also talk in small sentences. “Mommy, go park.” “Mommy, he’s bringing up the buggy.” “Here’s your coffee.” He can count to five when he wants to, with a little help. He can charm your socks off with his blonde hair and shy smile, or reduce other people to stares with epic tantrums. Quite the sour patch kid in toddler form, but aren’t all toddlers a little sour then sweet some days?
I cannot even begin to make a list of words he knows now, there are too many. I am thankful he has not picked up any curse words, and am accepting the win on that one. I am thankful that as he has gotten older, I am better able to communicate with him, his wants and needs. That one or two times out of ten now, he understands what “wait” means.
I love him with all of my heart. To the sun and moon and stars and to forever and back. I did not know until he was born that a piece of my heart was missing. And although he is far from the easiest toddler, I could not imagine my life without him, would not want to imagine one without him.
So here’s to two years and a hundred more. I hope he achieves all he dreams in life, and that his mind is always filled with wonder and imagination.