2 Years!

Dear Ben-Ben,

I honestly have been wanting to write a letter to you since, oh, you were conceived. But, one thing you may already know about me is that I procrastinate...a lot. (I sure hope that it isn't hereditary!) So, on your second birthday, I thought I would *try* to articulate all of it into one letter! Here goes...

I am in awe of you, and have been since the get-go. Not just the biology part, but all of you. I am in awe of your intelligence. I am in awe of your physical prowess, although admittedly, after you've walked into a wall, I have to wonder... I am in awe of your sweet and charming nature - you must get that from your daddy. I am in awe of the unconditional love you have for us, that you have known, somewhere deep inside, that you love us and that we will take care of you. I am, and I suspect, always will be, in awe of my love for you. I knew I would love you like nothing else in this world, but even that isn't close to what I feel.

I always thought that your baby stage would be the best. It was great, don't get me wrong - how you fit into my arms, how it felt so perfect and complete. But I've learned that every stage is the best, just in different ways. Now, you're becoming your own little person, with wants and needs, the ability to express them and yourself. How you crave the spotlight and love to entertain the people around you - a coy little smile, playing "shadow", counting...the list goes on. And we just eat it up! Your grandmas and grandpas, aunts and uncles, and most of all, your parents, think that you hung the moon and the stars.

Your father thinks that I worry too much. At first, it was about how much you were eating/drinking ("Do you think he's getting enough? Is feeding him every hour too much?") Then it was tummy time and rolling over ("He doesn't like tummy time! He'll never roll over!") Then it was crawling, and then walking, which I admit, was stupid, since you were walking before you were 11 months old. Then it was your speech ("He doesn't say a lot of words - do you think there's something wrong? Can he hear o.k.? Maybe we should try sign language!"). Now, at two, you eat and drink just fine (well, I still think you need to eat more veggies and meat!), you roll and climb over just about everything in your way, you crawl under tables, you want to walk everywhere by yourself, you jump! jump! jump! all around the house, you run at the mall, you mimic everything we say and pick up on new words and phrases in the blink of an eye.

Tonight, you were traipsing around the living room, when Charlie knocked you face-first into one of the chairs (from the party). You ran to me, having trouble catching your breath while crying. I grabbed you and held you tight, trying to calm you down while simultaneously trying to calm myself down. I get this lump in my throat when you get hurt - I think it's called panic. I pulled away from you to see if you were bleeding, which you were, but just a little - you cut your top lip on your teeth - so I took you to the bathroom to get you cleaned up. While I was wiping your mouth off, you looked at me with this expression of wonderment, and said, "Blue eyes. Mommy blue eyes". How you can make me feel so many things at once - panic, sadness, then drunk with joy - is beyond me. I just want you to know that I am grateful to have the chance to experience it.

You are still my baby (even though I tell you that you're my big boy), and I wouldn't change a thing about you or the time we've been together. Well, I might want to go back to tonight to keep you from dropping the f-bomb (in your defense, your dad said it first, after he was sacked by the dog) but that's about it.

Love ya kiddo,
Mommy