I can’t believe it’s been two years since we welcomed you into the world. Since, after making me wait an extra week to meet you, you finally entered our lives. For the last two years, you have brought nothing but love, joy and wonder to our lives – every single day you continue to amaze me. You’re such a clever little thing (perhaps too clever for your own good) and it’s almost hard to imagine you as the tiny little baby that entered the world on that Sunday morning.
I’ll be honest, I don’t know many two year olds, but you’re definitely the best one.
I always said I wouldn’t be one of those parents who shows off about their child and I wouldn’t bore people to death about you on Facebook, at work etc. Here I am though, two years on, completely ignoring my own standards and talking about you at every opportunity I get. Within reason of course, I’m not embarrassing you or anything! But believe me, you charm every single person you meet… your cheeky little grin, your insistence that you must say goodbye to every checkout worker you encounter, even when you’re being a misbehaving ratbag, people find you endearing.
It’s crossed my mind a couple of times that people might get annoyed that I’m telling the world how awesome you are at basically everything. After some careful deliberation for…. oh, I don’t know, ten minutes, I’ve decided I couldn’t care less. You are mine, you are wonderful and if I want to shout about how much better you are than pretty much every other kid I know, I jolly well will.
I can’t believe it’s been two years since the three of us started this journey. I can barely remember what life was like before. You’re growing and learning all the time; learning everyone’s names at nursery, solving problems like a champ (even the ones I don’t want you to figure out) and, well, testing boundaries. You’ve sussed out now that if I won’t let you do something, Daddy might. You’ve also figured out that when the phone rings, it’s nearly always Grandma. You surprise me every single day with what you can do and how quickly you learn; you’ve got that off your Dad, talented little so and so.
So Happy Birthday, Short Rib. Keep doing what you’re doing. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but thank you for bringing me two years of sheer awesomeness. I promise I’ll do my best to make sure the rest are at least equally good, if not way better.