18 June 2010


Here we are again. June 18th. I think this one came faster than last year. But, if it?s possible, I think we packed even more fun into the second twelve months than we did the first twelve months.

Two years. Golly.

It's hard to put into words how much you mean to this family. Your smile and your hugs and your stubborn little self – it's perfect. The three of us just fit together. We had no idea what we were missing before you arrived on the scene. No idea.

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Turns out, we should have listened to all the people reassuring us that you would talk when you were good and ready. You have recently started chatting up a storm, and like a good little toddler, your favorite word is the big NO. But most things you say to me are accompanied by raised eyebrows and an expectant look as if you're thinking, "are you getting all this, lady?"

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You conduct an ongoing roll call of all the shoes in the house. ?Mama shoes. Dada shoes. Mama shoes. Dada shoes.? You try to insist that everyone wear shoes at all times ? because you know that shoes mean OUTSIDE. And outside means CARS. And DOGGIES. And DIRT! And walking down the sidewalk (and sometimes right down the smack dab middle of the street) toward the corner, stopping to thoroughly inspect each stray stick and pebble along the way. You will usually hold my hand most of the way down the street, but never on the way back. It's as if you've hit your quota of Mama-mushiness, and have to pass on the hand-holding until another time. 

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You could stay out there all day. You don't care if it's 90 degrees and you don't care if it's raining. You are an outside kid. And I don't mind at all that I am persistently after you to drink water and constantly cleaning dirt from under your little fingernails. Go for it, Buddy. But save some dirt for the next guy.

My favorite moment of the day is either leaving for school in the mornings, when you tear through the house to find me and give me a bye-bye kiss before you climb in the car with your Paw — or our night-night routine, teeth brushed, jammies on, chatting and rocking till it's time for bed. It's a toss-up.

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I used to wonder what it would be like when you were old enough to reach up and hold my hand, or give me a kiss goodbye. But I never could have imagined this feeling. In my most vivid daydreams, I couldn't know what it would feel like to round the hallway of your school, peek through the doorway and find you playing with your friends – only to spot me and break into the biggest, most genuine grin and barrel toward the door to get a Mama hug. Ugh. You little guys. You're heartbreakers, for sure.

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Of course, I've heard the stories about two year olds. Yep. And in the past few months I've seen more than a few glimpses of what Ms. Barbara used to call a "demonstrative" little thing. But I say, bring it all. Because I know there are hugs in the end.

There's just so much YOU. You're loving and brave and inquisitive. There's no slide too tall and no stick too dirty.

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Happy, happy birthday, Buddy. We love you more than words.

Love Mama  

Happy 2nd Birthday – Colt from Sarah Hood on Vimeo.

4 thoughts on “Happiest Birthday

  1. Happy Birthday Colt!!

  2. Happy Birthday to a little boy who has brought so much joy to a family in need of many more snips and snails and puppy dog tails!

  3. Wow! Great job, with a great subject.

  4. That is so sweet!!!

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