You are two years old. Two. TWO! Incredible.
Every day leading up to today has honestly been a blessing, a gift. Of course, there were moments, fleeting moments of frustration and grief, but it was probably (honestly) just shock. Shock that your lungs were strong enough to yell so loud. Shock that you had enough strength to hit and kick. Shock that you had the energy to say no. As much as I hate comparing you to your sister, in the days leading up to her second birthday, there was no way she could have ever done half of the things you can. In fact, the day after she turned two we were in the hospital learning that she would need a heart transplant. Needless to say, your second birthday was such a breeze. You are the gift of normal.
You are quite the daredevil, not fearless, but close. You ride this Radio Flyer bumper car through the house so fast that we should call you August Andretti. You can easily jump from our ottoman to the sofa and like to ride the arms of our furniture like a horse. You throw over-handed, kick a ball with ease, and turn any stick into a bat (or sword). You are a wonderful climber and we often find you on top of a structure before we've had a chance to even "spot" you. The down side of this great strength and agility is your new found love of getting out of your crib... unfortunately for us, your maturity level has not yet caught up with your physical abilities. And although I may have to force my allotted quota of hugs and kisses everyday, you are the gift of energy (and testosterone :).
Your favorite things are many... balls, cars, trucks, and trains of course. You love helping me cook (you say, "I cook! I cook!") or pretending in the playroom. You love playing in the car, to a fault! The minute you are unstrapped, you jump out of your car seat and jet away. You have a kicking/screaming fit when we finally pull you out. YOU. LOVE. BABIES. Baby humans, baby animals, baby dolls, even baby sized things - like presents or food bites. You love Super Why, the show on PBS and you think you like to play his game on our phones (but you're just pushing buttons). Speaking of pushing buttons, you love electronics - our computers, phones, you name it (it's all about the buttons, really). You LOVE to be outside. I don't think your body is capable of feeling the temperature if you're outside playing, digging, scooting, etc. You love music, dancing, and especially singing. You wave your hands in the air above your head like a conductor and belt out a melody that only you can understand. You love milk (in a certain sippy cup) "milky" and a pacifier. These are your essential bedtime comforts and I dread the day (SOON!) that we force you to give them up.
Your greatest love, however, is your family. You love us so deeply that you can hardly breathe without one of us by your side! Your case of separation anxiety is even worse than your sister... although, I tend to tell others that you are just "slow to warm up", it sounds better. As a result, I am your constant companion; mostly needed for all things emotional. I kiss the oweys - I hold you when you're sick - I get your needs met. Your dad, of course, is the fun guy and since you don't see him as often, you soak up every second you can with him. You love to work with him in the garage, wrestle in front of the TV, or sit on his lap at the computer. All other times of the day, you are your sister's shadow. She is incredibly patient and usually adores her play time with you. You have found your way into her imaginary world. Lucky you. You are the gift of companionship.
Even though I have regretted your birthday (for your sake) falling so close to Christmas, it is so obvious why you were due on Christmas day and born on the winter solstice. On the darkest day of the year, you brought light and hope into this family and in more ways than one, you were the gift we needed.