So, there’s this thing called a “birthday.” Pesky, tricksy things that keep coming back, year after year, sneaking up and pouncing on the unsuspecting. None are more “unsuspecting” than children under the age of four. By four, I think they’ve gotten the routine figured out, and know what to look for. Hell, they might figure it out by three, I don’t know. It’ll be another year before I solve that little mystery.
Which is another way of saying…he’s two. Two. Two? Yes, really. He’s two.
It’s been a wild year, seeing him grow, both cognitavely and physically (really, for two, he’s as tall as some three-year olds we know). Cognitavely? While far from being a chatterbox, he’s got enough of a vocabulary to identify some common things in the house, the pet’s names. He has some favorite things to request: “Mick Mou” (aka: Micky Mouse Clubhouse) is the current thing, but he’s also gone through stages of “Rat Cook” (Ratatouille), “Cars” (Cars), “Dragon” (How to Train your Dragon), “Nemo” (Finding Nemo), and surprisingly, “Redboot” (Robots).
He’ll dance with music, smile often, or just curl up with a blanket (if he’s watching something). He’ll bring us books to read, and likes to go “outside” (when weather permits), and doesn’t seem to mind the cold. Seriously. He experienced his first time playing in snow recently, and didn’t want to go back inside. He climbs, he slides, and generally makes each of our days brighter.
Here’s to the start of a third year. It’s likely to be just as wild, and just as exciting. We’re looking forward to it.