Dear Owen,
It is now the end of September and you have been two for a whole month. What is even more note worthy than that (is my procrastination really a surprise now? Actually, hey, it's NOT procrastination, it's YOUR FAULT. You leave me no time in my days to properly draft this little blog to you because you are always on the move...ahem), is that you have made it two whole years in this world. That right there makes me take a little pause and shake my head and say your favorite word, WHOA. Granted, you say that mostly when you see trucks, really BIG trucks, but needless to say, I would say that the usage here is entirely appropriate. WHOA, how the HELL did you get to be two? Next thing we know you are going to be 42 tomorrow, which means I am going to be old and your poppy is going to be ancient. So, in other words, just STOP IT. Stop growing up so fast.
Since the moment you made your entrance in to this world on August 19, 2012, you were a little show stopper, demanding of all attention on you. I mean, why WOULDN'T you arrive on our wedding anniversary? We don't deserve a day for ourselves because the world revolves around Mr. Owen. You continue to operate in this vein and we are entering the terrible two's, threes, and the god help us fours (from what I hear), so this is only exacerbating your will to revolve this great planet around yourself. We are mostly happy to cater to you to an extent but I have to say that when we don't, your fits are both comical and terrifying all at once.
I almost don't remember you as a baby anymore. I remember you more as a baby now that your brother Bennett arrived just in time to celebrate your second birthday with you (and ruined your second birthday party by being born on that day... sorry about that, welcome to having a younger brother, yippee!) Seeing him has reminded me of the special times I had with you as an infant. The expressions, the noises, the cuddles. Everything except for the fact that you were a LOUD baby. A very loud baby. And a very sleepless baby. Now that I think of it, not much has changed in two years in that respect.
It's a little bit scary that I have forgotten so much of that time, because it's such a special time and because it wasn't THAT long ago. Maybe your poor old mom is already losing her mind (your fault also? Possibly) or maybe because you were such scream-y baby and didn't let us sleep, I have blocked out some of that time period. Regardless, I promise over the next few years, especially in the trying times, I will try to remember you as that sweet little baby that cuddled against my chest. I will always be here to let you cuddle against my chest, no matter how much bigger than me you are (which sadly, might happen by the time you are age 10...again, STOP GROWING turtle).
I look at these pictures of you just days old, and then I instantly turn my head to look at you now (well, I try, but it's hard as you are running constantly from one thing to the next), and I realize in comparison that you look like a giant. Seriously, a GIANT. How does that happen? And then I think, my god, in two years you are going to look like a giant compared to how you look NOW. Time keeps marching on and blowing my mind.
Even at one, you look like such a mini version of yourself- still a baby. Now you look like a little boy and at times, I can catch glimpses of you in 15 years as you are almost full grown. It stops my heart for a second to catch you in this light, because in some ways, I'll always think of you as my "baby" even when you no longer look like the infant or one year old version of yourself.
You have always been such a little observer. You want to figure out how everything works. You like to put things together and make sure all the working parts are in order and only then are you satisfied. It's kind of how you have developed, too. You were a late walker, and you will be a late talker. You currently a ton of different words, but you aren't talking in complete sentences yet. Some of your friends are already doing that, and some people have expressed concerns that you are behind. As with walking, it's just all a matter of time. With walking, you wanted to figure it out first and then one day you were not only walking, you were off and running. Talking will be the same way. Perfectionism, perhaps? Out of the major milestones that characterize age two, you are ahead on most but maybe a tad behind on this one. We are not worried. In fact, I have a feeling that once you start you are not going to stop.
And also, I kind of like your jabbering. I love to talk about trucks with you (WHOA), and to hear you say "Mama, WATCH" or "Mama, BUS" or "Mama, PLEASE" (which actually sounds like mama, PEEES). I also like your cute little word for motorcycle which sounds like a bunch of incoherent syllables but we completely understand what you mean.
Isn't that what being a parent is about? You understand your kids completely, even when others don't. We are around you enough to see how smart you are and know that your words will follow shortly. Also, being a parent has only exacerbated the knowledge of how judgemental people can be. How people yearn to fit everything in to a little box. IE: he should be doing this, you should be doing that and because you aren't, you're failing. I hope that we teach you to appreciate everyone as an individual and to get away from some of this judgemental crap. That somehow you learn not to judge, and if you are judged, you let it roll off your shoulders. I've been surprised that parenting is the one thing that really brings out a lot of these judgements, so one day when you are a parent, just know that if you are doing the best you can at parenting and you love your kids with all your heart, we will be proud of you. Those two things are all that matter, don't listen to what anyone else says.
You also love to imitate us. You love to cook. You love to "drive" our cars. You love to blow dry your hair. You love to do construction around the house like poppy (this is good or bad, depending on what tool you find to "hammer" in to the walls...) I have even found you doing squats around the house. Basically anything that we do, you want to do. This is kind of cool as I know that in a few short years, we are going to be "gross" to you and such uncool parents. We'll take the flattery now while we can get it. No shame.
One thing you've really started to do in this second year is to sing. You love to sing yourself to sleep, and sing to us in the car. Maybe you will have inherited some sort of musical talents, as your first year you loved to dance.
You also love trucks, dogs, and currently you are starting to love choo-choos and buses. You also love anything BALL. Football, basketball, golf balls... you throw anything and everything and the unfortunate part about this is that you actually have really good hand eye coordination. So, if you aim for my face, there's about a 99% chance you will hit it. And there's no "softness" in your throw whatsoever. You are a total boys' boy, and we've never pushed this on you. It speaks volumes to the fact of "nature" or "nurture." If you wanted to play with dolls, we'd embrace that too, but so far you seem to be drawn to completely "boy" centered activities.
Speaking of things you love, you also love your favorite playmate, poppy. I said when you were just weeks old that poppy would be your favorite buddy, and he definitely is. You wrestle, you throw, you chase, you create games together. Sometimes I have to walk out of the room because of the old adage "boys will be boys" and what follows sometimes is that "boys will get hurt." I know that it makes you tough, but it scares the beejebus out of me sometimes. I forget how resilient you are, and how your poppy is always your protector even in a game that seems a little sketchy to mama.
It is so cool that you have older brothers who play with you, and who you know will always protect you in the absence of your poppy. Just two days before your second birthday you became an older brother yourself. Luckily, you have two great examples to follow in that regard and you've taken to Bennett rather well, especially considering (like I mentioned) he was the reason your birthday party was cancelled, and your actual birthday was not too exciting with a newborn around. You want to play with baby B so bad, and you don't quite understand that you can't pounce on him because you are so much bigger than him. Unfortunately for you, Bennett is working on trying to be bigger than you are so you might want to get this in while you can before he outgrows you. I can't wait until he is a little older and you both can run around together as the best of buds. But then again, I also am loving this new period of seeing you with him and I don't want to encourage time to go too fast, as it already seems to do. Before I know it, you too will be 2 and 4 and conspiring against me, although I think you already are. On nights Bennett sleeps well, you don't and vice versa. COME ON, boys, be nice to your poor mama!
Even though you are no longer a baby, I'm still the one you turn to when you feel sad or scared. We had a thunderstorm a while ago and you yelled for mama. I was grossly pregnant at the time, but all you wanted was to be held and to know that everything was ok, and I was the only one you wanted to be close to and cuddle with... surprising really, that I was the one you turned to for protection. It was a little uncomfortable to lay there with you with a huge belly, and during another thunderstorm once Bennett was born, I had to hold both of you at once which was also awkward, but it made me feel so good to know that I am still the one you want...I know this won't last forever, so I will take it while it lasts. But, Oe, even if you are 30 years old and need a cuddle from your mama to feel better, you can be sure that I will be more than happy to oblige. I have no illusions that will even be remotely the case, but I hope in some form I will always be able to help you feel better.
I remember when you were a little baby, I thought at each milestone- a week, a month, 6 months- that thank GOD, we've kept you alive for that much longer. I was clueless, Owen, just clueless as to what I was doing so the miracle was that I had actually kept you alive. In addition to that seemingly huge task, we had beyond massive breastfeeding issues (seriously, hell) and we were oh so very tired. You were never a good sleeper- you were too curious about the world around you to waste time on sleep (like your mama who thinks naps are for the birds). I felt like we kind of fumbled through the first year and settled in to a pattern, or at least got used to the sleep deprevation. It was another lesson in knowing your kid and accepting that not all kids are the same, as about every person we knew had kids that were sleeping through the night, no problem, and had all sorts of advice for what we should do. You were just bound and determined to teach us a lesson in patience as you did not do so until well after a year, and nothing was wrong with you- you just didn't want to sleep. We tried everything but it's just the way you were. Once we accepted it and figured out ways with you that worked for us, it became easy.
Now that you are fully immersed in "toddler-dom" the real challenges start. I chuckle inwardly now when I hear new parents say that newborns are so hard. I want to say NO, you have no idea! Babies are EASY! Entering the two year mark is hard, but I don't feel as clueless. Maybe I'm a relaxed parent, maybe I feel like I know you better, maybe I feel comfortable with your poppy and my stance on how to parent you, but I'm pretty relaxed about the whole thing. Granted, there are times when you are twisting and kicking and hitting and throwing a massive toddler tantrum that I want to lock myself in a closet and scream, but overall, I'm pretty relaxed. I know that we are consistent with you, that we love you, and that we are trying to teach you to be the best person you can be along with independence and confidence in yourself. But can I just say? I am so very sorry you inherited my stubborness. You are so my child- my mannerisms and the way you will just hold on to being stubborn even once it's obvious you want to give up. I think this is a lesson for me actually in learning to be a little less stubborn because I am experiencing basically a mini me in full force. Or perhaps it's just the lesson for me to truly appreciate my parents.
The most heartbreaking part of having kids is that eventually you have to let go. You have to let them grow up. This is something you will learn once you have kids of your own, but every parent can understand this sentiment. It is a hard line as a parent, as you teach your kids to grow up but at the same time, you don't want them to. I don't want you to ever lose your innocence. I want you to always look outside and get excited for bugs and trucks and buses, versus the majority of the rest of the world who just goes through the motions without any regard to the small things in life. I hope that in 30 years, you grow up to realize that the world is inherently good and that you can still appreciate the same little things that you do now. And if it seems as if the world isn't inherently good, I hope you have the drive to make it better, and the belief that even just you can truly do so.
Owen, these past two years have been nothing short of amazing, even through what might be considered the "bad stuff"... IE: sleepless nights, green poops, sick days, temper tantrums. In truth, the bad stuff is what has made this bond with you run even deeper because it's in those moments that we (as parents) have really had to dig deep and we come out of it with a stronger bond with you, and with each other as a family. It is truly an honor to be your mama, and I'm humbled that someone entrusted me with you. It is a bit baffling, honestly, that I would have such a great duty. You are smart, sensitive, stubborn, sweet, funny, charismatic, and just an overall joy to have around. You keep us busy and you keep us on our toes, but we wouldn't have it any other way. It seems so cliche to say, but it is hard now to imagine our lives without you. You will and you always will be our little turtle and I can't wait to see the great things you do in the next 2, 12, 20 years. We love you more than words can say. Happy two years little ocheemo.
Love,
Mama.
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