To. Too. Two

Caches Michael,

Today you are two years old.  I can't help but feel as though I blinked and an entire year has past.  How did this happen?  How are you already two?  Whomever coined the phrase, "The days are long, but the years are short." must have lived with a toddler, and you are one hell of a toddler, son.

I suppose I have to accept that my baby isn't so much of a baby anymore, sniff, and so to celebrate we got you some new balls, your current obsession.  No, not those, though you do find stretching them to the point of making your father wince entertaining.  The bouncy kind that are super fun to throw at dogs, roll into the street and leave around for mama to trip over in the dark of night while she paces the hall with you cradled in her arms.  Yeah, still doing that, but we will talk about that later.

As I sit to type this, I am saddened that I did not continue with monthly updates.  Far too much has changed in a year to consolidate into one letter, but I will try.  

Caches, you are a joy, an utter delight, and I find myself completely in awe of you every single day.  So much so that just catching a glimpse of your face in my rear view mirror can bring tears to my eyes.  When I am with you, I feel like I am in the presence of greatness.  You have always had the ability to change the energy of a room simply with your presence, only now it is usually for the better.  Your energy, your light, it's contagious.

You continue to be the worlds smallest and most powerful dictator, accepting nothing short of perfection from your staff.  You have very specific ideas about how things should be done and they had better be done just so.  Even if it means eating your eggs directly out of the frying pan with the spatula as a utensil one day and losing your shit when I offer to do the same the next day.  Didn't I get the memo!?  We only eat eggs from the frying pan on Tuesday, April 3ed at 7:24AM!  Sure, this can be mind numbing, but just like your perfect downy blonde curls, I know it will not last for long.

Caches, you are the kind of kid that people dream about when they imagine what it would be like to have children.  Well, during normal waking hours you are.  At night you are the kind of kid that people have nightmares and take birth control when they think about.  You have an utterly ridiculous, insanely cute laugh that you burst into at random points of the day for no reason at all other than that fact that it is amazing to be you!   You are joyful, passionate, inspiring.

I want to put in writing some of the adorable things you do right now, because baby, some day you won't do them anymore.  You will grow and change, and years will pass, and I'll catch the sent of nearly two year old you, and I will lose my breath as beautiful memories of who you used to be flood my soul.  I know it is only natural to grow up, but I find myself wanting you to stay.  So innocent, so pure, not yet jaded by the harsh realities of life.  Wouldn't it be nice to stay 2 forever...

When you want to nurse you catch my attention and you say, "Nurt?"  "You want to nurse?" I ask. "I need a nurt." you respond.  "Oh you need to?"  And with the biggest smile that could melt even the coldest heart you say,  "I neeeeed to, mama," your eyes squinting and your silly crooked teeth beaming in a smile.  Oh Cache, your nose scrunch and eye squint smile is perfection!  Never stop smiling.

You have the memory of an elephant.  You listen, you listen carefully, and you don't forget.  "No baby, we will open that when daddy gets home."  5 hours later, "Caches, daddy is home!" and you run and grab the box to open.  "Cookies are too hot now, we can eat one when you wake up from your nap."  Your eyes not even half way open and you are grinning, "Cookie?"  We don't get away with much around you, baby. Continue to listen earnestly.

You are fiercely independent, scoffing if I even so much as lay a finger on you while you climb the play structure or try to ride your bike.  You are ever becoming more your own person; but you come back to me.  You come back with your gangly, bruised limbs wrapped so tight around me that I almost feel as if we are one again.  Fly, explore, get hurt, make mistakes, but keep coming back sweet boy, I will be here always.

You like to name your family and keep track of their whereabouts.  Often during the day you will ask where Yily is, and then Abby, followed by the meow, the fish and your da-do.  You like to reassure yourself where loved ones are, like while pushing a truck, you pause, "Da-do, work." and go back to playing.  "Yily, nap. Shhhhh." and on with eating lunch. You are such a thoughtful boy, so gentle and kind.  Stay kind.

You are perpetual motion.  I don't think there are more than a few seconds each day that your entire body is still.  You kick your little legs in the car seat, you kick them in the swing.  You even kick them while I'm holding you if something excites you, like a big truck driving by, or a bird hoping on the grass.  You rub your hands against my chest or back while you sit with me, and as you fall asleep, continuing to twitch your tiny, dimpled fingers until you finally surrender to sleep.  Keep moving, son.

Baby, watching you fall asleep at the end of a long day is one of my favorite things to do.  To watch a healthy, inquisitive, rambunctious boy go from wide awake, to drowsy, to trying desperately to keep his eyes open and finally to still, peaceful sleep is nothing short of a miracle.  An every day miracle that I am fortunate to be a part of.  Watching you sleep feels like a dream.  It did when you were only hours old and it still does today.  When you are old like mama, and find yourself troubled with the world, look for peace in the face of a sleeping child, I find it in you.

These past two years have been the most intense, exhausting, challenging years of my life.  They have also been the most awe inspiring, exquisitely imperfect, and magical.  I get to see the world through your eyes, and baby, it feel as if I have been born again.  Everything, even the formally mundane tasks now have to ability to be fascinating.  Doing dishes sparks imagination about fish and boats.  Watering the lawn can turn into an impromptu water fight, and vacuuming can turn into a gleeful game of cat and mouse. 

I am grown, I am no stranger to heartache, grief, and the unfair cruelty of this world; I find solace in you, baby.  In you I see a world of hope, peace, and brilliance.  When I get caught up in the uglier parts of life, I find the beauty of this world again in your embrace.

Only two years in, and already I feel like I have learned a lifetime of lessons.  I promise I'll continue to listen, I'll continue to learn; we are in this together sweet boy. 

Love,
Mama

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY LOVE