To My Son on His Second Birthday

Dear William-

A few days ago, you turned two years old.  Though it was a quiet day spent at home with the family, you were not at all forgotten.  We ate pumpkin cake, we sang to you so many times that you started singing to yourself (and now, days later, still are), you watched as your dad put together your new train set and held your new train cars so tightly in your chubby little hands that I wasn't sure we would ever pry them loose.  Your aunts and uncles FaceTimed you throughout the day. You got a lot of lovely messages and phone calls from your family.  Your Aunt Leeney brought you ice cream and cookies.  You spent the day being loved on, something with which you are quite familiar.

Two years ago, you entered our lives and we were so filled with love.  I was still on a high of graduating from school, I was weeks away from starting what I had imagined to be by dream job, and your birth quite literally made me feel like I was going to explode from happiness.  You were the proverbial cherry on top.  However, the high from your birth has yet to cease.  You are still our "baby."  Despite the fact that you have a younger sister now, you're still the baby.  Despite your newly-acquired, two-year-old attitute and sense of entitlement, you are still the baby.  Despite the fact that you do everything in your power to be a big kid, you are still the baby.  Our baby.

You may wonder what you were like at two.  Let me tell you:

At two, you are quite small, smaller than the vast majority of boys your age: 33 inches tall and 23.6 pounds.  You have light/medium auburn hair, shiny and very straight.  You have clear, gray eyes and a lovely symmetrical face.  You are adorable.  You talk a lot...and loudly.  You like to do everything by yourself.  You want to be just like Leo.  You refuse a sippy cup (Baby Milk, you say) and refuse to sit in a high chair (Baby Seat.)  You wrestle and jump and bite and kick.  You're a little fighter. 

But you carry with you an amazing disposition, a life-loving, funny, goofy, charming little boy who just wants things his way and refuses to take "no" for an answer.  One of my favorite parts of you is your perseverence and bravery.  You are stronger than you realize.  When you are charged (and you are a lot, let's be fair) you never show fear.  Rather, you puff out your little chest, tuck your chin in, plant your feet, and brace yourself for the hit.  You don't go down without a fight.  This, my boy, will take you places.  Don't change this part of you for anyone. 

I could listen to you laugh for days.  I could breathe the smell of your hair in forever.  I could hug you for hours, hold you for a lifetime.  I could handle you staying this small forever.  But you won't, and that's the lovely part of being a kid.  I'm so excited about who you are growing up to be.  Your dad and I both are.  You have a way of making everyone around you smile.  People love you, sweet boy, and that makes my heart happier than I can tell you.  People can see you how I see you.  And you see yourself as a larger-than-life force to be reckoned with.  And you are right.

I love you, Hatchie.  Always have, always will.  Thanks for letting me be your Mom.  It's the best job in the world.

Happy birthday, Son.

Mom