Now, just a few weeks short of your second birthday I find myself looking back fondly on the times that you have shared with your mother and me and the growth that you have shown since May 5, 2006 when we first brought you home from the hospital. You have definitely made me a proud father. I could go on and on about the things I adore about you, but here are just a few things that come to my mind right now:
Your vocabulary has grown leaps and bounds just in the past few months. I love that you can recognize certain letters like O and M and E and even moreso that you understand that they represent sounds. I don't care that you say buh buh buh regardless of what letter I ask you to sound out, you know that there's a sound attached to the symbol. At your age, that's pretty incredible.
True, you did identify and say liquor store today and when the cashier asked you what Dad was buying you correctly identified the 12 bottles on the counter as wine, but we'll just chalk that up to time spent in front of the boob tube. Damn dirty SuperWhy.
While you used to only eat the pablum found in the various stages of Gerber jars, you now have learned to like such relatively eccentric foods as black olives, shredded Parmesan cheese, and Skyline chili. Even when something's kinda spicy, you're not afraid to keep eating. Speaking of which, I like how when you bite into something a tad piquant, you stick out your tongue to rub it with your hand and exclaim Sypee!!! Sypee!! Those S-P blends aren't easy, but you'll get the hang of it sooner or later. And by the time you can actually pronounce spicy, I'll bet you'll be downing jalapeños as a bedtime snack.
In the past few months, you have evolved into quite the pretender. This seemed to have started a few months back when you would ask for a pot and a spoon and when you're mother or I would ask you what you were making, without looking up you would say simply soup or rice or sometimes just hot. Ah yes, that secret family recipe for Hot. Mmm mmm good.
Now you enjoy opening and closing doors after announcing that you're going bye bye. When we ask you where you're going, you tell us you're headed to work or to Grandmommy's or to Boompa's. Sometimes you're on your way to the store to buy cookies. Other times you're going to the doctor, who I might add, you describe as being nice. You like to make me ask you three times for a goodbye kiss only to refuse me while readily granting our dog one each time you open the door and let the pricey cool air out of the house. Eventually I'll say things like I don't want to pay to air condition the whole neighborhood and fatherly stuff like that, but right now I'm enjoying this game as much as you are.
Speaking of our dog, William T., I think it's cool that you call him T whereas Ambrose you just refer to as Cat. Your mom thinks this is because Ambrose is harder to pronounce. I think it's just a keen observation on your part where you simply abbreviate what your mom calls him which is You Asshole Cat. Just remember that Mommy, using asshole as a term of endearment, doesn't mean any harm by it, but you are not allowed to say it until you're at least three.
You also play relatively well with others. Once on the playground at our local park you pretended to drive a car. When a little boy only a month younger than you came over to sit down beside you, you looked at him briefly before getting up and coming over to me. So as not to be heard by him, you leaned close to me and whispered with an upward intonation boy? like you were asking me a question. When I assured you that he could play beside you you went back to the driver's seat for a few minutes. Then you came back to me and whispered again. Boy? It was cute, but just remember that outside of the playground, you're not to ride in cars with boys until you're at least thirty-three.
More recently you frolicked in the snow with your two-year-old cousin in Cincinnati. At times you weren't crazy about the cold, but you learned to adjust. When your older cousin held onto something you desperately wanted, you would grunt her name while clenching your fists and tensing up every muscle in your body. Sharing is a learned skill, I'm sure, but you'll get the hang of that too.
Not since infancy have you been a cuddly sleeper. Even when your mother or I beg you to come lay down in the bed with us because you sometimes awake before the sun comes up, you refuse and instead insist on starting your day. I guess it's good that you live by the old adage "Early to bed; early to rise . . ." but it sure would be nice if when you wake up at 5:30 in the morning, you either come lay down with us or at least use that pre-dawn solitude for some quiet meditation.
As for the nighttime rituals, I like that you can pick out what stories you want to hear and even go so far as to say certain words aloud as I read them. I would guess this is basically rote memorization on your part, but it's vital to acquiring the beginning stages of reading. When you picked up my book this evening and flipped through it you asked quizzitively Pictures? I like that you like books.
Like I said, this list could span pages upon pages. While going from being a family of two to being a family of three was quite the adjustment for your mom and me, it seems like everyday now you do something that makes us happy. Sure, there are times when you are quite the pill, but I think this is to be expected from a kid of your age. You already impress me as a girl who's sharp witted and has a developing sense of humor. Those two things will get you far. One thing worth working on though is your unwillingness to clean up a mess you've made. Turning a blind eye to all the toys you've strewn across the living room floor only to lose interest in them moments later is only appropriate for younger babies.
And daddies in their mid-thirties.
Love,
Your dad
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