Turning Two

You’re turning two tomorrow and I’m struck by how much you’ve changed—not just in terms of the feats you’ve accomplished, the milestones you’ve conquered, the skills you’ve learned—but also the changes in your personality. You’ve mellowed, my dear. You’re not a baby; you’re a small person who is maturing faster than I would ever have believed.

Though you’re still rather fearless, you’re not the headstrong, unstoppable child you were a year ago. These days, when you enter a new situation, you quietly assess your surroundings before you act. I can see the gears turning as you decide how you’re going to proceed.

You’ve always liked your books, but now you’re almost as much of a bookworm as your mother. Last year you’d sit through one or two at a time, impatient to go on to the next activity. Now you constantly request books, and you’ll sit and read for an hour at a time. You have your favourites we can read six times a day or more (especially the books with bunnies). When I put you to bed, I throw in a few books and you read yourself to sleep (like your mother). When you wake up in the morning you’ll read to yourself while I sneak in a little more sleep.

You’re a lot more rational now. I can explain something to you and you’ll actually listen. Sometimes you even accept what I say. Sometimes you disagree. That’s OK too. I love your strong will.

Despite my best efforts, you’re a girly-girl. You love your shoes. The other day we bought you a shiny red trike as well as some new sandals. You insisted on wearing the sandals as we took the trike out front to practice. When your favourite neighbour came to say hello, I told you to show off your new toy—instead you held up your feet and eagerly cried, “shoes! shoes!”, proud as can be.

You don’t always have to be active anymore. Last night we held hands as we watered the garden. We sit together on park benches, companionably. You babble away and I understand little, but when you look up at me with your mischievous little grin, and happy brown eyes, I laugh, and you laugh along with me.