My little Dexter is 10 months old today. With every month that passes, I ask myself how we’ve gotten here so fast. Double digits means only two months til my littlest little person turns one. Time to start planning the party!
Last night before bed, your daddy and I talked about what a big day today would be for you. For the last week, we’ve been teaching you to say “I’m two!” when asked your age. We’ve been trying to teach you to hold up your little peace sign to show everyone how many years old you are. You try but for some reason, you just can’t get that little thumb to secure your pinky and ring finger. Cutest thing ever.
Last night before bed, we sang happy birthday to you. Towards the end, I felt my voice quavering and my eyes stinging. I felt that familiar lump in my throat. It’s the same one that unexpectedly crept up on me at your first birthday party last year as we sung to you.
Last night before bed, I told you I loved you. I kissed your head. I whispered in your ear, “the next time I see you, you’ll be 2.” You smiled at me and I brushed your long hair out of your eyes, pulled your favorite blanket up to your chin and walked out of your room gently pulling the door closed behind me.
Last night after I put you in bed, I cried. I sat in silence on the couch and thought about what I was doing exactly 2 years ago. I was lying in the hospital full of anxiety and anticipation and hopes and dreams Curiosity and naivity. Two years ago I didn’t know how much love one heart could hold. I had only dreamed of seeing your face. I didn’t yet know that it would be 100 times cuter than I expected. I didn’t know you’d have a head full of black hair and your daddy’s nose. I didn’t know that my heart would melt and I would be changed forever.
Last night, when I was on my way to work, I fought back tears. I asked myself why I felt so sad. It’s the weirdest thing. Mommies worry about things they never knew they would worry about. They get excited over things that never seemed exciting. They cry at times when they least expect it. I’m not sad that you’re two, son. I’m sad that you’re not a baby anymore. You’ll always be my baby, but you’re not a baby.
Today, you are a little boy. A curious toddler with a personality as big and bright as the sun.
Today, you make your mommy and daddy prouder than you did the day before.
Today, you are funnier and smarter and sillier than you were the day before.
Today, you are loved even more than you were the day before.
Today, you are 2.
And this world is yours for the taking. Make the most of it, sweetheart.
58/365: Bathtime sillies.