Baby Schwartz 2011: July 2013

Dear Evan,

I'm writing this on the eve of your second birthday-- your last day being 1. As I think back to this day two years ago, I can remember everything so clearly and at the same time, it's all a blur. The past two years have been awesome. It's amazing how you've gone from a tiny blob that I'd carry in my arm like a football to a walking, talking, crazy toddler.

You're such a big boy now. You're so independent. You want to do everything yourself-- from holding your own granola bar to pulling the wagon instead of being pulled. If I try to add even the tiniest bit of Mother knows best, you're quick to tell me, "Mommy, stop it. Walk away." I've been known to take that order and leave you stranded, in a swing for example, just to teach you a lesson. I'm mean that way.

I love that Daddy and I are still your safe place, though. You transitioned into the toddler room at daycare a few weeks ago. By the end of the pre-toddler room, you were insisting on walking in every morning. Every morning since the transition, you've said "Mommy hold me?" before we even get out of the car. When you're playing, you'll always pause every few minutes to hug onto my leg or try to climb into my lap--even though, by the time I try to hug back, you've had your fill and are on your way back to your play. I know you'll go trough periods of rebellion and asserting your independence, but I hope that in the end, we're always your safe place.

I like to tell you (and you like to repeat) that you're handsome, smart and nice. That's how I like my boys. You are so smart. You remember everything. I told you one time what a stop sign said and now every time you see one, you say "STOP!" You repeat everything. We catch you saying things that you've obviously learned in daycare. For example. the other day you were reading a book and singing "We will...we will...rock you!" What a strange thing for a 2 year old to randomly start singing Queen. You're great at puzzles, and naming things and matching colors and shapes, and counting. You're picking up a lot of adjectives. Hot, cold, warm, sunny, windy, soft, scratchy... You've finally gotten the hang of yes and no.

We have lots of rules and I'm often surprised that you know them-- even if you don't always follow them. You know that you have to take our hand before heading into a parking lot. You know "no shoes on the couch" and "no standing on the couch." You know "no scooping" food-- that's not really a rule, as much as a suggestion. You often try to scoop foods that you should stab which ends up in heartache when the food hits the floor and Laika gobbles it up. You know "no bubbles" in your milk. You're pretty good at "please" and "thank you" and you often remind yourself "no whining" before we do. Whining is not how we get things in our house. The proudest I've been of you is when an adult held the door for you and you looked up at her and said "thank you." She was shocked and I exploded with pride.

You love big kids. We have several friends with kids a few years older than you. I love the way you look up to those kids-- especially because they're good kids that I don't mind you looking up to. You mention them all the time and you get so excited when you see them. You learn big kid things from them, like climbing on and jumping off high things and catching bugs.

You're becoming such a cool little person. You're sweet and funny and polite and cautiously curious about the world around you. I love hanging out with you and showing you new things. And I love those rare moments when you'll snuggle with me. And I love how you love Superman even though you have no idea who Superman actually is. And how when I ask you every morning, "what do you want to wear?", you always say "Superman shirt". And I love how you smile and say "hi, Mommy" when I walk into your bedroom in the morning or how you roll over and say "night, night" when you're not quite ready to get up yet. And I love how you cling onto me when I drop you off at daycare, but I practically have to drag you out of there at the end of the day because you have so much fun with your friends there. And I love how when left alone at the park, you wander you way to the flowers to take a sniff. And I love how you giggle when I chase you through the house to get you into the bath. And I love our evening bath routine of laughing and snuggling. And I love how important it is to you to say "good night" to Daddy. And I love how you give us each "two huggies and a kiss" and then get into your bed and give Panda, Mickey and Minnie each two huggies and a kiss too. I just lover everything about you, Buddy. Even when you're in full-on terrible two mode, I still love you to pieces.

I can't wait to see what the next year brings and I'm so glad that Daddy and I get to spend it with you.

Love,

Mommy