Two years. This is where I'm supposed to say, "I can't believe you are 2" and I can't because you're my baby. But then...when were you not a part of our family? A part of me? It doesn't seem like I just met you two years ago. It seems like you've always been around. So much so that I recently looked at old pictures from before I was even pregnant with you and thought "Wow, life must have been so weird then."
Strange how a person can come into your life and just make it the new normal without a word. There's no great shift. Just all of the sudden you exist and it's like you always have.
Two is so much bigger than you were a year ago. And just completely on the other side of the world from where you were 2 years ago. You amaze me. You are light years ahead of any other two year old I've ever known.
I guess that's the curse/blessing of the 3rd child. You're going to grow up so fast.
Already you are so independent. You want to be just like the big kids. We aren't even allowed to consider a highchair these days. Strapping you in takes an act of God. You'd much rather sit in a seat and come and go as you please. Sippy cups? No way. Pass the big kid cups.
You follow Ainsley and Freddie everywhere and pitch an absolute fit when I don't allow you down to the playroom or outside without me.
You started climbing out of your crib a month ago. I'm not really sure what to do with you there. Ainsley and Freddie were over 2, more like 2.5, when they did it. You no longer want anyone to take you out of the crib. You can do it yourself.
You want to brush your own teeth and read your own books and get your own milk.
You have lots to say, and even more to do. You're always busy. Always talking. I can remember you as a tiny thing, thinking how could you possibly ever talk or walk. But you can and you do, because that's how it goes. We spend so much of our grown up lives not changing, that watching a baby become a toddler, then a kid is incredible.
The older kids like to play "punch buggy" in the car. You are not one to be left out. So randomly I'll hear you yell "Buddy! White!" You have a favorite Knock-Knock joke...
You: "Not - Not."
Us: "Who's there?"
Us: "Cow who?"
You ask questions and then more questions and when we answer you reply "Ohhhhhhh" like it's so logical.
When the others ride their bikes, you ride yours. Down every hill, around every turn, you are right behind them. You can ride a scooter like a pro. You can climb up any playground structure. Just the other day, I turned for a handful of seconds, and when I looked back you were teetering on the top rung of a ladder about 7 feet in the air. Reaching your tiny foot over to the landing. Babe, that ladder was not made for a munchkin like you. It was not made for little toddler legs. I sprinted over, screaming for you to wait, but you had already made the leap and just giggled down at me as you ran to the slide.
You are fearless. You have no caution flag, no yellow light...just full-throttle. You run. You go. You jump. And you don't want any hand holding or help along the way. Railings were not made for you. You walk down stairs with your hands behind your back, defying us to stop you.
You have epic light saber fights with Freddie. You already have the fighting stance. You color with Ainsley. You pick your colors carefully even though right now they are all "bue" or "yeyow."
When we try to get you dressed, you have very strong opinions about your style. Yesterday we went through every single pair of socks you own. All of them discarded to the floor with an "Ah na yike dat sock." You ended up sockless.
Today it's choosing socks but one day I think you'll be tackling stock options or magazine covers with the same decisive authority. You'll go far, little man. And no one's going to help you. You're going to do it all on your own, because that's the way you like it.
Happy Birthday Cohen! We love you as big as your personality, as loud as your screams, and as funny as your knock knock jokes.