Happy Birthday to my sweet, sweet boy!
When I think about "knowing" you for the past two years, my heart swells. You made me a mother and for that I will always be grateful. I often worry that I don't know your personality well enough, but what I do know is that you are mine. Forever. And I do know that you are very much your father and your mother and your own little self all rolled into one.
You tease like your father. You are inquisitive and like to problem solve like your father. You are into tactile building or playing like your father. And you are serious like your father. You are drama like your mother. You love books like your mother. You enunciate the word "button" like your mother. And you love to eat loaves of bread like your mother.
But you are you.
You love nursery and we frequently must pray for every member of your nursery class by name. You love to wear ties so you can be like your daddy. You love cars and playing basketball. You are a puzzle-doing machine and will work out the pieces all on your own. You "read" to yourself and your animals and can always spot the right letters. You like to count things in "one, two" and when playing hide and seek with your daddy you cover yours eyes and count to twenty, skipping five, and after reaching twelve move right on to sixteen. And oh how serious you take your job of finding daddy's hiding places, and how much joy you have when you find him.
Going to the library is a favorite thing, and you are sure to tell me you won't "run around." You very much enjoy handing your new books to the librarian and telling him thank you. Your favorite part, however, is getting to "sit a chair, read a book" at a table just your size while I peruse the shelves. You are very discerning when it comes to books and know immediately if a new book is one you'll actually let me read to you, and all books then have a nickname by which to identify it. You can sing the ABCs (and several other songs--your sweet voice singing always makes me grin) and know the letter sounds and several items that each letter starts with. You constantly surprise me with your smart comments.
You do have a temper and are stubborn--we must always pray for the things
you want to pray for, or the whole prayer is you repeating that one
thing we must be thankful for--but you are also one sweet boy. You tell
me that you are a nice boy and are quick to say thank you. You are drama and joy and love all rolled into one tiny little body. And your little voice is happiness to my ears.
This is you at two
Love,
Mother
