A Letter to Teddy at Two

You’re two. Officially two, as of 1:34 a.m. today.

Or, as you like to say, “TWO!” Because everyone should exclaim their age with such happiness.

It’s been another year of wonder and growing and changing, not just for you, but for our whole family. It’s almost impossible to believe that a year ago, you were still crawling and cruising, tentatively pulling yourself up to stand, while today you live in a state of perpetual motion, hardly taking a moment to stand still before changing direction and moving on to the next thing. I don’t have nearly as many pictures of you from this past year, partially because I fell down on the picture-taking-responsibility front, and partially because most of the shots I took came out as a blur.

Your second year featured lots of firsts: first time trick or treating, first haircut, first (and second and third) (unhappy) time sitting on Santa’s lap, first trip to Florida and spring training, first soccer “team,” first ice cream cone(s), first character addiction (in Elmo), first “I love yous.”

I’ve often said that you made it clear to me that I did nothing to “create” your personality, because you were born with a strong will and a quick laugh that’s all your own. And that still holds true today: you’re quick to smile, quick to laugh — and quick to make your opinions known when you’re less than happy. Your laugh hasn’t changed since you were an infant, though, and I’m still glad to hear it so often, especially when it’s interspersed between episodes of “no!” and “mine!” and “I need more mama, I need mooooooooorrrrrre.” That laugh makes me smile every day — even when it’s preceded by a mischievous grin that undoubtedly means you’re up to no good. You don’t have a good poker face, kid (which your momma appreciates). 

And just as you’ve been since you were born, you continue to be a creature of habit. Routine is your happy place: blueberries and milk at breakfast; waving bye-bye to the fishies in the tub after a bath; Little Blue Truck (beep! beep! beep!), besos, “nigh-nigh” and “I love you” before bed.

Things you loved this year: running wild through the finished-but-empty basement; climbing, climbing, climbing; headstands, and looking at things upside down, generally; blueberries and pizza and ketchup (it’s a real food in your world), Italian ice and popsicles and CHEESE (oh, so much cheese; see the “I need more, mama,” above); running through the sprinkler; seeing your friends each morning at daycare; “brushing” your teeth to the alphabet song; hotels (you are your mother’s kid, after all); BUBBLES!

Things you were….less fond of: sitting in one place on flights; getting hit with waves at the beach; haircuts (at least until the lollipops showed up); the Flying Dumbos ride; wearing coats, hats, mittens, boots (or anything related that could keep you warm and dry); on a related note, snow; going to the dentist; eating things other than fruit, ketchup, cheese and dessert; putting the bubbles away.

You are only TWO! and yet, you are already growing up — pushing my arm away when I put it around you to read books before bed, figuring out how to open the fridge and scan for what’s there (a preview of the teenager you’ll be someday), and finding your own voice. I’m excited to see what the next year will bring, even as I know that at this time next year you will seem so much more grown up, with a year of being a big brother and the start of preschool behind you.

“Here Comes the Sun” was a big song for me when you were born. The last two years have been so very different for us than the few that came before them, and I’m so thankful for the sunshine you’ve brought to our lives. Shine on, kiddo.

[Here’s what I was thinking when Teddy was first born, and as he turned one.]