A letter to my son, who turns two today...

To my dear, sweet, Little Bird:

You are two today! You father and I can hardly believe it. This year has been full of remarkable changes for you, as this marks the year that you turned from "baby" to "child." We have learned so much about you over the course of this last year, and as you reach the end of your second year on this earth, it is amazing to see how you have become "you."

You have reached the point in your life where I can no longer describe you in generalizations like "happy," "bashful," or "calm" because you are a full and round person. You are full of contradictions and nuance. You are simultaneously eager to please and intensely stubborn. You love helping and being in the midst of things, but have learned the power behind "no" and being insistent. (Your father and I were just laughing about your habit of breaking down your words to repeat them slowly and forcefully when your request is not granted on the first--or second, or third, or fourth--attempt.) You are at once madly in love with your sister and glean great pleasure from the nuisance you can cause her. You are both calm, observing what goes on around you, and wild, choosing to let loose and free at the drop of a hat. You are fearless, but still maintain that sudden need for comfort at injury or loss.

Some things which you are, purely:

Intelligent: I am amazed at how much you know. You can count to 20. You pick up idioms and repeat them with hilarity and skill. You are already learning letters and their associated sounds. You draw abstract scribbles and then spout off lists of what those scribbles are--all of which actually look like your art. You design and carryout great plans in your play. You have surpassed your sister at this age, I think in large part due to her example, in many of the things you know. You have started attending "Toddler Lab" and come home with more words and signs and things to do than I thought a little fella could learn in just an hour. Every day you pick up more everywhere we go.

Loving: The joy I feel when I hear you call out for me, or your father, or your sister is indescribable. There is light in you, and it grows when you share it with those around you. You freely give affection, which is only just starting to transform from open-mouthed reception of kisses to puckered up smacks; from a head on the shoulder to bonafide squeezes. Your sister is your idol. You follow her everywhere and imitate her play. When she is at ballet, you cry if she disappears from the view of the one-way glass, and rejoice when she reappears. We call you our monkey-see-monkey-do because you work to be like her, you learn from her, and you love her. You are her echo and her companion. You tell her sorry and give hugs when you hurt her, and you have started sticking up for her, even if she doesn't often return the favor.

Funny: You have started making jokes, playing tricks, and expressing your awareness of your sense of humor. You are also purely boy in this matter, as much of your humor revolves around crashing things, jumping from things, scaring people, wrestling with people, and bodily functions.

Beautiful: This beauty is more than simply surface beauty, though you have always had the ability to stop people of all genders and age in their tracks. You have a smile that is nothing short of astounding--it is the same smile I knew and saw when you first began to give them: wild, pure, uninhibited, and full of that metaphorical light which words can not describe. Though it sounds like mommy-drivel, I cannot help it: when you smile your fullest and purest smile, it is literally like a glimpse of heaven and for the briefest of seconds, I feel I have entered into the presence of God. I hope the world is good to you, and you always have that ability to open heaven to those who see that grin. That smile has literally saved me from myself more times than you can know.

In this year, you have learned to run, to talk, to play, to obey, to disagree, to count, to draw, to jump, to dress, to ask, to thank, to hit, to hurt, to apologize, to forgive, and to pray. Each day you learn more, and each day I am so grateful for the tremendous gift I have been given to witness that growth and learning, even though it flies by all too quickly. Each day you learn, and each day I learn from you.

Thank you, my sweet, bright Little Bird, for calling me "Mommy," and for being you.

All my love,
Mom