A year ago I wrote this post: So he’s one
Today, my sweet, sweet boy is two years old. And I’m all reflective and happy-sad about it.
Last year I seemed so triumphant about his birthday. I was a motherhood warrior!
This year I feel all unsure of what to say. It’s all flown by so fast and I feel like I’ve missed it. Like it’s all swirled around me in a blur of laughter and tears and snot and happy.
He’s grown up so much I hardly recognize him sometimes. It’s hard to see his baby pictures and imagine that he was ever that small. It seems like he’s always been this big. This active. This in.to.everything.
He’s become this little person. He talks. He understands. He defies! (Uhh, about that…holy “terrible twos,” y’all.)
He’s still not sleeping through the night! WAHOO! (Oh, wait…)
He only eats peanut butter and cheese! ( o_o )
He’s MY perfect.
He’s brought about a change in me that is most decidedly permanent and most definitely good.
He has taught my heart what it means to love unconditionally.
He has taught my soul what it means to feel another person’s needs.
He has made me Mama.