Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Twice the Awesome

My baby turns two today, and I'm left sitting right in the middle of the cliche: It's gone by so fast. As the tiny dimples on his knuckles and elbows start to fade, and his baby giggles turn into belly laughs, I'm mourning his babyhood, but rejoicing in his latest accomplishments. It's such a strange, in-between stage of motherhood for me—this sadness at the loss of all things baby, mixed with joy for the little person he's becoming.
And what a little person he is. He's fierce, that one. With his love, with his anger, with his orneriness. He's all in, no matter what it is, and he lets you know—loudly—if he doesn't agree.

He continues to be a Daddy's boy, and loves his Daddy more than anyone else in his world. Favorite food? Whatever Daddy's eating. Favorite place to sit? Wherever Daddy's sitting. The list could go on. he's so enthralled sometimes that I can't even put on his shoes/hand him his plate/insert normal daily function here without being met with: "No! Daddy do it!" Sigh.
He chatters more and more all the time, and we constantly find ourselves hearing new words or phrases, or new pronunciations that are understandable even more-so than the day before. At times, Gavin still has to translate for us, but those moments are becoming fewer and further between.

Bennett continues to impress with his physical abilities. He's galloping, and trying to skip, though his little legs still aren't quite long enough to pedal anything just yet. He climbs and throws and jumps and pushes the limit of his bodily capabilities constantly. If he sees bubba do it, he's gonna try it, too.

He's still into Elmo, but has lost the adorable "Melmo" pronunciation and now calls him by his actual name. He's also into superheroes because his brother is, and his favorite, by far, is "Pie-der-man."

Yesterday, he had tubes put in his ears and I think we cried more than he did. He was a champ, and proved the nurses wrong when he woke up dazed, but calm, instead of screaming (we'd been warned that all kids wake up crying after surgery). He charmed the nurses so much that they wanted to keep him, and one said, "He's an angel from heaven."

Indeed. He absolutely is. And we're so very glad he's ours. Happy birthday, little man!

1 comment:

Heather said...

I love they way you wrote this. They are ours for a little while. A gift from heaven that we have to give back some day. Thanks for making the most of this gift. Your example is necessary.