mama’s boy

Dear Eddie…

In less than a month you will be 2 years old.

I have lost count the number of times I have come over to the computer to work on this post.  You are so full of energy that I just get a couple words typed and you want me to come and play.

mama! play!

You are loving being in daycare full time.  So much so that I am sad that you will be going down to one day in only a week’s time.   But I am so excited to get more time with you.

This morning I carried you out of your room to watch cartoons and I was struck with how big you are getting.  You legs hang down past my waist and you are able to wrap your arms around my neck and hang on.

When did this happen?

Your language is exploding.  I remember just a few short months ago worrying that you weren’t saying much.  That you had no word for me.

Now EVERYTHING has a word…or at least a sound.  You play with cucks (trucks) and baws (balls) the most.  You point out caws (cars), cucks, and buhps (buses) wherever we go.

You ask about pampa and ama (grandma and granpa) and anny (Granny).

You wonder “where go?” about da-ee (daddy) and oos (Louis) and mama.

You are constantly chattering in both words and sounds.  You make your trucks go “beep beep” and you your cars go “voom voom!”

If the cat throws up it’s “ewwwww.  dad-ee!!!”

You ALWAYS want your cocks (socks, he he) and shuz (shoes) on to go explore your world.

You want to run and jump and kick the ball.  And you want to do it the fastest, the highest, and the best.

Music is your best friend and you would spend your days dancing and twirling and bopping your head if we let you.

Words and letters are your new passion and you can’t go to sleep without me or daddy reading ouhks (books).

But the most glaringly obvious thing?  You are not a baby.  At all.

You eat with a poon and fak (spoon and fork), you take off your clothes at night, and put your shoes on when we are going somewhere.

You can get in your carseat in my car all by yourself and you don’t need me to cut up your fruit or cheese sticks anymore.

Many people are telling me to cut your hair or start getting you away from your pipe (pacifier), but I can’t do either.  Those are the things that make you my little boy.  They still make you look “baby” to me.

I love to watch you light up a room with your smile.

I love the sparkle in your eye when you are doing something you love…or that you think might be naughty.

I love watching you figure things out…even when you get frustrated because it reminds me of myself.

I love to scream and laugh with you about the most ridiculous things ever.  And then watch daddy roll his eyes.

You are so brave and so outgoing.

But I love it when you need me.  When you hide behind my legs until you are comfortable somewhere. When you lay your head on my shoulder because you need some mama cuddles.  When you press yourself so close when we are reading books that it’s like we are one person all over again.

Every day you become more animated and more…you.

Sometimes it takes my breath away to see myself so perfectly reflected back in you, and yet…you are so uniquely you.

You have the athleticism and mannerisms of your daddy, but you have my quirky personality and lack of patience.

But your sense of humor?  That come from both of us.

Just today you laughed at your own tooter.

It is so cliche to say that I never knew love until I had a child, but it’s true.  No one can prepare you for this new love.  Because it is new.

I love our family and your daddy and our friends, but not like I love you.

I love you because you changed me.

And I never want to go back.

In less than a month you will be two.

I miss my baby, but I love my little boy.

I am so proud of you.

No matter how old you get, you will always…always…be my special buddy.

My Eddie Bear.

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