A Letter to my Son, on his Second Birthday.

Dear Elliot,

You are now officially 2 years old, although I felt like you were two for several months now. It could have been the constant tantrums, the end-of-the-world tears, or the bossy demands that made me feel that way.. or the fact that you're understanding more and more, starting to say "thank you mommy" and "please" (you know I can't deny you anything when you do), or the squeeeezes, kisses, and hugs you give me when I ask.

You are turning into a boy with every passing day. You're always thinking of others - you're learning to share, you try so hard to clean up your messes, and you actually put away toys when asked. You request your backpack every time we go to pick up your big brother from school. You eat constantly throughout the day, and if I'm lucky, you will actually consume all of your dinner once in a while (and after about an hour at the table). Your favorite seems to be pasta.. and pizza of course. And you definitely love apple sauce, which you eat about four times a day.

You get numbers. You can count to ten, which is often followed by "Jump!". You're starting to understand shapes, but you still confuse your colors. You call your favorite yellow shirt "red" (pictured below), which I dare say, is inaccurate. You adore rocks and often pick one up when we walk outside. You then throw them, even if we're indoors and the rock happens to be huge. You cried once when I made you leave a large boulder outside. Your big brother covered it with snow so you would leave it behind - he made it a little snow house.

You've completely appropriated my iPad mini. Your favorite shows are Umi Zoomi, Mikey Mouse Club House, and Animal Mechanicals. Your favorite activity seems to be to pull out all the DVDs and the remote control batteries, and spread them out on the living room floor (if we're lucky, you will also throw them all around the house). You climb on the kitchen island, with your whole body, to find little treasures you're not supposed to have. You scream "Oh! Find it!!" every time you get your hands on something good. You yell "Catch!" when you throw things at my face, usually when it's already too late.

You demand my house keys to open doors and press all elevator buttons. You never willingly hold my hand.. unless you sometimes do, and it totally melts my heart. I walk, holding on to your little fingers, so proud and so thankful that you are mine.