Two

Dear Mason and Smith:

You are two. You are so two.
Oh boy, two is...challenging.
But, I've learned just enough to know that you won't be two forever.
And while I am challenged by your new defiance...er, independence, there is so much about two that I love and will miss when two becomes three.

I realize that you will not always...


fit on my lap
hold my hand
say "Up, peez" when you want to be held
wear your rain boots on the wrong feet
(wear rain boots at all)
call the slide a "wee"
want to have a hug, a kiss, rub noses, and bonk heads (in that order) before bed
be glad to see me first thing in the morning
point out every construction outhouse we see and say "Dada, pee pee."
let me choose your clothes
run around in just a saggy diaper
be unaware and unashamed of your bulging belly
cherish a plastic screwdriver you call "dry-do" (more precisely, "My dry-do!")
drop what you're doing and run to the door when Dada gets home
kiss me in front of your friends
find joy in simply throwing rocks and dandelion heads into the creek
want to cuddle and be held after I discipline you
push your belly-button and say "beep"

No, you will not always do these things. And I will miss them sorely. So, I write them down and hope that I will always remember what you were like when you were two.

S

M