I could seriously write this post in all CAPS and it wouldn’t be an exaggeration, because we are all THAT excited to wish you good wishes today. It almost feels like Christmas as the parents, but for the whole family, because not only are your Dad and I excited to watch your face light up as you dig into your presents and cake, but your brother and sister are PUMPED as well. So much so that the epicness of your birthday cake became a non-negotiable requirement of our summer To Do List. As Cooper said last night (as we were adding the frosting at about 9:20 PM), “If this cake falls over, then it won’t be epic, and then we will have a zero percent change of accomplishing our summer to-do list, because we will have failed at Cal’s birthday cake.”
No pressure, though.
(Good news – the cake did not fall, and it is definitely epic – I can attest to its epicness having not even tasted the final products, as I have thoroughly taste tested every component… as have my helpers ;) )
It is crazy to me to think you are two now. So seriously no longer a baby. So much so that we are finally eliminating the bottle from your life, and it is actually quite tragic. We are only on day 2, and your calls for your “baaaa baaaa” last night nearly made me lose my nerve. The thing is, I don’t really see a problem with you having a bottle at bed times right now – you don’t use a paci and you don’t suck your thumb, and whatever “damage” it is doing to your teeth won’t likely add much to an orthodontist bill that I just assume will be in our future (how is it that both Steve and I didn’t have braces, but so far we are batting 1000 on kids who will????) But, I can acknowledge that there will come a time when your reliance on a bottle will be a problem, and so it seems best to break you of the habit while I can still outrun you.
You still have a limited intelligible vocabulary, though I am quite certain you are saying lots of things that we just don’t/can’t understand. You are enthralled with Spiderman, and any time you see a masked person on a screen you point and say “Man!” You continue to love Cars, and will demand to watch it sometime by imitating the growl of an engine. You know all your animal sounds and you enjoy sharing your nightly bath with a shopping cart. Your happiest moments come when you realize that Cooper or Daphne has left the door to their room open, and you dart inside and find a treasure to clutch in your chubby little hand and then sprint away with. It is about 50/50 on whether you will just turn over your stolen treasures when busted or will hold on with a death grip, challenging anyone who dare ask you to relinquish it.
You are ridiculously ticklish, and like your older brother, you LOVE to be tickled. You still want your Mama within eyesight at all times, and you have become an expert at shutting doors. You love to read books, and you can build a mean train track. You can’t stand to be left out of anything, and have hiked your leg up on the babygate more than once, leading me to believe we should probably just take that thing down before you prove you can scale it. I remain thankful that you don’t try similar antics in your crib at nap time, because with your height and proportions you could like find a way to climb/topple out of bed if you got the physics of it just right, but instead you spend most pre-sleep time that you are in your crib on your head, doing literal handstands and walking your feet around the railings.
Kisses from you are feast or famine, you either refuse to give any, or will go from person to person dolling out kiss after kiss. You continue to LOVE the cat, and have tamed your interactions with her down from “trying to ride her” to “squeezing her not THAT hard.” She continues to run from you. When your picture is being taken, you will say “cheese!” and when we offer you something you want, you will say “oh, yeah!”
You are moving up to a new class in gymnastics this weekend – having officially outgrown the 18-22 month group, and actually being the star pupil in your class last week – doing things like listening and participating without a single tantrum. Trust me when I say that NOBODY saw this coming. Don’t get me wrong, you are pretty active and agile and could gymnastics with the best of them, but let’s just say that the organized part of an organized sport was just not quite your jam, and while you COULD do what was asked of you in gymnastics, you often refused to do what was asked of you. Quite enthusiastically. Often with kicking (and biting). So now, little fish, time to move on to a bigger pond where you can grow into the bigger fish you are undoubtedly going to be.
Your carseat is turned around now. You had hit the height/weight requirements for this transition months (maybe a year?) ago – you are quite large, but in Texas it is now also tied to age, so you stayed facing backward like a baby for longer than any of our other babies. Perhaps that is why it feels almost like a surprise that you are 2 – weren’t you just a baby a split second ago?
Sure, I have seen you grow up for 2 years, but in my mind I could still think of you as a baby when it suited me. But babyhood no longer suits you – and to be honest, growing out of it is suiting me better than I thought it would. Just this past week we went to the beach, and our packing was already so much lighter than last year. And we talked about how next year we won’t even need the pack and play, or maybe even diapers. It’s crazy to think about it, but we are, as a family, re-emerging into the world out of babydom with you. We still have a few more rights of passage before you are an outright big kid, but you are well on your way, and while I wouldn’t trade a moment of your baby years and literally cherished every single moment you were oh so little, I am downright giddy thinking about the years up ahead.
I love you, my sweet boy. We all do. So incredibly much.
I hope this birthday is as epic as your birthday cake.
