Blaise's 2 year letter

Oh my dear, sweet, Blaise.

My baby. How is it that you are two years old? No longer technically a baby, yet I still call you "baby" all the time. When will that stop? Not in the foreseeable future. When you are 14 years old I may still call you baby and it will embarrass the heck out of you. But I hope deep down, you will feel loved and secretly love that I call you baby.

Anyway.

You are two. Loving trains, planes and automobiles. For real. All things that move, you love. You shout out "bus" or "car" or "truck" or "airplane!" or whatever it is that's passing by. Your Dad gets a kick out of the way you say "truck" as you've replaced the "tr" with an "f". So that's always good for a laugh. Sometimes you mutter it to yourself and I can't help but let a giggle come out.

You love your soother (soosee) and your two hippos and now you even sleep with a pillow and a blanket and it's pretty much the cutest thing ever.

You love being silly and making people smile and laugh and you love joining right in with any merriment you happen upon. Today you charmed your way through three different offices that we had to go to, making people smile and laugh and immediately relieving any boredom of having to sit in a small office with a bunch of strangers. You do this all the time.

You are becoming quite an independent player when the mood strikes you. I'll often find you lining up your cars along the middle bookshelf in our living room or sitting on the floor or couch with a book or two. And so far you don't seem to mind that your brothers are missing for most of the day now that school has started, but you do often talk about them or reference them when you see a school bus. 

And speaking of school buses, every morning when we take Noah and Jude to the bus stop, you shout at the top of your lungs, "BAH BYE!!!" over and over and over at the bus driver as soon as he pulls up and opens the doors. It's hilarious and adorable. As are most things you do. 

You are starting to venture out into eating more foods which is really just a lot more convenient. And usually means a little less screaming. (Also how is it that I've ended up with three kids who don't really like oatmeal? Weird. It's probably my own doing, but whatever.)

You sleep like a champ (Seriously. That was 18 months coming! Glory Hallelujah.) and prefer "Mama" to be the first one in to greet you, but you'll usually perk up for "Nono" (or Noah) to come and pick you up out of your crib. 

You are talking nonstop and I hear "who's that" or "what's that" or "what's this" or "who's this" about eleventy million times a day. It's adorable, albeit exhausting. (Not gonna lie.)

You are testing boundaries big time these days. Always looking at me after I say no or try and redirect you elsewhere. You will look at me like a dog does with a slight head tilt and then say, "Hm?" and point to what you want to do, often doing it even after I say "no". I am trying to crack down and hold firm, but often you are so hilarious, that it's hard for me not to smile or laugh at you - even when you're flat out disobeying me! Oh the joys of being the third born! (One day Noah will tell you, "Man! I didn't get away with HALF the stuff you do!" and he'll be completely right. Sorry, Noah.) 

I wish I could write down all the funny and hilarious and adorable things you do from the way you pick out a book and then walk backwards towards me and then sit in my lap. Or the way you press your cheek against mine and think it's hilarious. Or the way you often break into song and dance just to the music that plays in your own head. (I LOVE this!) You are crazy about your brothers, but often take advantage of any time they are lower than you, whether it's sitting or lying down, because you'll whack them on the head or face. But you love them. And they love you. Your relationship with Noah is so different from the one you have with Jude. I love the complexities and dynamics of each relationship and watching it all play out. I pray your relationships with your brothers will be strong and the kind that sharpens each other and challenges each other for the good, spurring one another on to love and good deeds. 

I love love love love love you, you crazy Blaiser. You melt my heart and keep me laughing. You keep us all laughing and can perk up even the grumpiest attitude in this house with your antics and I praise God for bringing you into our family on that hot evening in Kampala, two years ago. 

Love, 

Mama