hello birthday boy,
today you turn two and we are celebrating.
the days have tumbled together and suddenly you are two years old. i saw it coming, but i can barely believe it. i am gladder than glad i've been jotting details down as we have gotten to know each other. for it was two years ago today that the love affair officially began. love at first sight.
twenty-four months does not seem like enough time for a tiny newborn bundle to learn to know his mother's voice, to stretch his toes and fists while yawning and learn to sleep and eat and walk and talk. oh the places you'll go. to go from snoozing on my chest to riding on papa's back like a cowboy. the same blanket that swaddled you like a burrito is now a cape or a hiding spot for a wild game of peekaboo. you know actions to itsy bitsy spider and how to all fall down and how to jump and somersault and open closet doors to get out your own shoes and socks. (i hope i never tire of matching socks with tiny helicopters on them.) as a mama, i marvel at the little lessons a baby learns, stacking knowledge like blocks. until one day your baby has outgrown being a baby. just typing that last sentence, a lump is swelling in my throat.
i want to remember the way you are as this little person in my life. the way you hug real tight. how you blow kisses from your crib. the way you lie down on your stomach to see the wheels go round and round while pushing your cars on the carpet. how you jump on my bed and take the batteries out of my alarm clock. and then you hand the parts to me because you know i don't want them to get lost or go in your mouth. and then i rhyme. can you say clock? and you attempt the word. can you knock knock on the clock? which you do. and where is your sock? and you point to your toes. i want to remember how you help me with daily chores. how fast your hair grows. how you like to go two-fisted, grasping a car in each hand and then trying to turn pages or do other daily functions with these cars attached to the palms of your hands. i want to remember how you love sitting on the bathroom counter while i get ready for the day. the way you pop a cookie into your mouth. the way you pick out all the marshmallows of your lucky charms. i love when you woosh down the slide at the park and then brush your hands together to clean them off. how you turn away, suddenly bashful when strangers smile, and coyly stare back at them from the corner of your eye. i love that you sleep with an entourage each night.
you are getting so big. however i refuse to be sad about letting you grow up. you were meant to grow and more importantly, i am grateful you are growing. i do not want to take for granted your good health and happiness and general sunshiney-ness. we are blessed by your presence day in and day out. i have plans to cherish each day of you so i never have to wistfully wish for you to be a baby again. i love you. grow, my little one, big and tall and strong.
happy birthday, benji.