So, I Have a Two-Year Old...

...and I'm not pregnant.  And I am not nursing a baby.  So, life is different for me right now than it has been in a while.

Dear Jon David,

     Today, you turned two.  Other things are happening in the world, so your birthday seemed to sneak right up on us all.

     You are the Baby Genius we always dreamed of having.

     Back when we were waiting for your arrival and didn't know your name, I was nervous about the possibility of having a boy.  I'll never forget one comment from my pastor's wife saying, "But boys LOVE their mama."  I didn't understand it then, but I treasure it now.  In the  midst of wandering into the terribleness that is age two, you still have affections for me.  I have found a hidden and unexpected patience at your insistence to call, "Mom! Mom! MOM!" every few minutes just to check on me.  We're in the same room, Bub.  I haven't gone anywhere.  

     

     You have definitely taught me a lot.  First, you have taught me that kids really do grow up fast.

      You like art.  And banging on things.

 

     Mothering you means that I need to expect the unexpected (and make sure that we always have insurance...)

      You may be the most doted-upon child in the world.  The beauty of it is that this isn't something we planned.  This is something that naturally came from welcoming you as "our baby" into the family.  Myla and Piper have been your helpers since the very beginning, and it gave them pride and purpose to do it. (Let's just hope that we eventually teach you to do some things for yourself one day, but whatever.  One thing at a time).

      Third kid=lowered standards.  I know television isn't good for your brains, but this is probably my favorite thing that has ever happened:

     

     Even though you hear it from other people, you don't realize until you experience it that things are different this time around.  I always mention to your dad that so many things now just don't bother me the same way they did the first (and second) time around.  You want to lie down on the floor and scream and cry?  Well, ok.  That's a cute effort. I'll be over here when you need me.

     Your front-left tooth is starting to move forward because of your beloved thumb, and once again, I think it's cute because we haven't yet footed the bill for any orthodontic work.  

     Every night, we look at the print on your wall, and I pray for you to grow up and "be strong and courageous.  Do not be afraid.  Do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go."

     And if one day, you want to become a chef who wears a lot of bling, that's cool with me, because it has obviously worked out for Guy Fieri.

 

     I  love you, Jon David.  I'll kiss you right on the lips for as long as you let me.  Happy birthday!

Love,

Mom