Sweet boy, you are 2 years old.
Who's crying? I'm not crying.
You are sweetness and energy and joy made into the most beautiful squishy toddler. You are also obstinance and independence and mischief and so many other things. You are becoming such a person.
Your language is taking off! You can demand "tato" chips and milk (mal! Mal!) And ask for a drink (dit). You can say Grandpa (peebah) and Grandma and Kiwi (Didi). When we say "one shoe..." as we put on your shoes, you go "ohh two" and it's the cutest thing that has ever happened. You're amazing. I love that we can communicate with signs and words. You light up when we show we can understand you.
I look at you and I see boundless possibility. You are so active, will you be an athlete? You love books, will you be a writer? You love cars, will you be a mechanic? I want every door open for you, but I want you to earn your success, too.
Your favorite toys are cars or anything with wheels. Your favorite books are those with cars, too. You love dogs and have a hard time understanding why we don't go visit every dog we encounter on our walks. You don't hate riding in the car nearly as much as you used to, although long trips are still pretty tough. You don't like strangers but you spent some time with your cousins at Christmas and you tolerated them, which was nice.
When I ask for a hug you almost always oblige. When I pick you up from the tub and wrap you in a towel (burrito baby) you relax on my body for a minute and I savor your stillness. We are up at all hours of the night, still nursing so much, and I remind myself that these moments of closeness are fleeting. This part is hard but your smiles and snuggles are so worth it.
Our lives are so full because of you. You are so special, so silly, so sweet, and so loved.