I cannot believe you are two years old today. This is the baby I brought home from the hospital two years ago. I can hardly remember that baby.
You grew so fast. Before I knew it you were laughing and talking. You’ve always had a delightful disposition.
You are not a baby anymore. Your legs are lengthening and getting strong. You have a mouth full of teeth. You are talking in complete sentences, albeit most recognizable only to your mother.
I love your bright, inquisitive blue eyes. I love your silky blond hair. I love the little freckle above your right eyebrow. I love your funny little concave toenails.
I love how you sit at the table and color for an hour with the attention span of a five-year-old.
I love how you adore your big sister and try to act just like her.
I love how you hold your own when one of your older siblings is trying to take advantage of you.
I love how you pretend to talk on the phone and make your voice inflection sound just like mine.
I love how you are absolutely obsessed with shoes.
I love how excited you get when you see your brother’s bus coming down the street and how you run to the edge of the grass and jump up and down and babble excitedly in your own little language.
I love how you always say thank you without being prompted. I love how it sounds like "ta-ta".
I love that you call your cup a "bah-lah" and we have no idea where that came from.
I love how you run to greet me when I pick you up from a childcare situation, your arms outstretched, saying "Mama! Mama! Mama!" and grab me tight around the neck when I lift you up in my arms.
I love how you call your poopie a "pee-you".
I love your baby gibberish when you are pretending to read a book.
I love how you sing along with me when I rock you to sleep.
I love how you bury your cool, soft, squishy cheek in my neck when you are sleepy.
I love how warm and snuggly and affectionate you are when you first wake up from your nap.
I love kissing your sweet baby skin.
Happy Birthday, Baby R! Mama loves you.