Dear Reece,
Tonight as I held you as you went to sleep, I watched you. I watched your little hands go limp, your eyes flutter before finally closing, and I watched your chest rise and fall in a slow, sleepy pattern. This has been routine for the last 729 nights.
Tomorrow it shall be 730 days.
Two years.
Each night as we go through our routine, and I study your little face, the plumpness of your cheeks, the speed at which your hair grows, the shape of your little nose, the familiarity of this little face I love so much, I don't really notice all the changes.
Not quite as they are happening anyway. I don't notice that your legs are a little longer than the day before, your feet a little quicker, your hands a little bigger. No, these things sneak up on me and hit me like a ton of bricks. Like when I put on your shoes that I know had plenty of room last week, and they suddenly squeeze your toes a little too much, and you tell me "hurt!" Or when you make your cars and trucks into a line and I realize you weren't organizing like that yesterday! Or when you bust out a string of new words, or are involved in a game with your sisters, or pretending to be a football player. That's when I notice a change has occurred. That's when I realize you have made that great leap from being a baby to being a little boy.
You are a little boy who loves running, bugs, tractors, dirt, playing ball of any kind, sticks, trucks, cuddling, and milk. You love to rub your face on bare skin; you love to pick out your own underwear each day. That's right! You are potty trained and wear big boy underwear! You love to swim, ride on tractors, lawn mowers, or anything that goes. You love to show others how much love you have to give, doling out hugs and cuddles freely.
Tomorrow, when you turn 2 years old, we will celebrate all of these things. All of the things we love about our wild, mischievous, funny, cuddly little boy.
Happy second birthday.
Love,
Mama
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