Dear Jameson,This past week you turned TWO. It seems like such a milestone… I mean, a few weeks ago (more or less) you were a little helpless infant like your cousin Daniel. (you know, the cousin you were determined to hold yourself, the cousin you totally FREAKED OUT ABOUT if your Mama was holding him)
We were so busy I didn’t get a chance to reflect on you and the fact that you insist on growing up, until the ride home from Kentucky. You were napping and Alex was entertaining himself, and Daddy was nodding off in the passenger seat next to me.
And I thought, TWO. TWO YEARS OLD. If only I could freeze this moment in time, because we are really, really enjoying our time with you right now. But you’ll continue growing up and getting bigger and learning more and more… so the least I can do is jot down a few thoughts on what I want to remember about the weekend you turned TWO.
9. MORE PAIN. You yelled this from the backseat during the drive, and totally confused me. More pain? Huh? You were so insistent, PAIN PAIN PAIN, that one of us finally figured it out. CRANES. You were pointing out the construction cranes, and then requesting more of them.
8. Stealing your Aunt Jurate’s strawberries. You can be a little shy around strangers, and you weren’t sure about Aunt Jurate and Uncle Mike for a while. But one night at dinner, they were sitting on the floor with their plates on the coffee table (we couldn’t all fit around the table). And you wandered over, saw some strawberries on her plate, and just helped yourself. From then on, Jurate was pretty cool.
7. Hand-holding. You like to run from us right now. This is new and a bit difficult for me as a parent, because Alex wasn’t much of a runner. He liked to be held. But you… you like to WALK. And RUN. And be free of restraints. But on city streets and near large bodies of water, this just isn’t possible. So you are given the choice to “hold hands or be carried.” To which you shout, WALK. And I grab one of your grubby little hands, and you pull and you twist and you try your hardest to get away. Then I pick you up… and you object, loudly… and I make the offer again. “Hold hands or be carried.” WALK. Okay, Jameson, hold my hand. And so you do. Reluctantly.
6. “MORE TRAIN”. We all know you love trains. On the first day of our trip, we were stopped at a crossing by a large, long train. Boy, did you love that train. And at the end of it, you signed and shouted MORE MORE as if we were gods that could just quickly produce a train, again, because you want one. I wish I could have, little boy, I wish I could have.
5. Spitting. Oh man, I have no idea where this habit came from, but you like to spit. On the grocery store floor, in the car, in the pool, at the table. We are working on this. I hope by the time you read this, if not much sooner, we can break you of this habit!
4. Hair cut. You are still talking about your haircut from Pop. Frequently. Many times a day, in fact. It’s like that thing you bring up when there’s a pause in conversation, as if you are reluctant to hear silence. But we know better… you just like to be able to use your words and your ability to communicate. Grandpa even discovered that he should bring it up when you were getting to be a bit difficult, and you were instantly distracted, ready to tell everyone about your HA CAAT.
3. Cutting down trees. Your toy chain saw made the trip with us to Kentucky. Apparently we haven’t been teaching you much about environmental conservation yet, as every time you saw a patch of trees you said, “TEES”. Yes, Jameson, those are trees, we’d reply (you like us to acknowledge the words you say, and get very frustrated when we don’t). “CHEESE SAW”. Chain saw? “YAH. CUT DOOOWN TEES”.
2. Knives. Your latest obsession is with cutting your own food. With a knife. This is a little scary for me, but you are so determined and you might as well start learning now while you are interested. So you are given a dull butter knife or a plastic knife with a banana or other soft item. You can so involved in cutting that sometimes you forget to eat the fruits of your labor. (or you spit them out… see #5)
1. Our trip to the pool together. We were the first to arrive at the resort, and Alex was still driving with Grandpa and Benjamin. You needed a break from the confines of your car seat, so I decided to take you to the pool while Daddy explored and waited to let others in. The pool was a bit odd… they had just finished constructing it, but the area surrounding the pool was still under construction. And on that day, we were the only ones at the pool. There were a few construction workers in machines, but they weren’t very close to us. The pool was on top of the ridge (like the cottages at Edgewater) and surrounded by trees. I had this feeling of being the one ones for miles, and there we were, you and I, swimming together. You love the water almost as much as your brother does, and we had the most delightful hour together in the pool. I was so grateful for the time to focus on you, and only you, as usually my time is divided. You jumped into my arms, you played on the steps, you directed me to carry you across the pool to the ladder. You live in the moment these days, not focusing on what is to come or what has passed. You experience such great joy and great frustration as you live moment to moment. For one hour, I lived there with you and, to my profound delight, experienced all the joys that come from it.
Happy Birthday, Jameson!
Love, Mama
1 comment:
AAAaaaawwwwwww :)
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