A few days ago, you were standing next to me while I rummaged through the pantry and I offered you a graham cracker. You literally threw yourself onto the floor, across my feet and started a tantrum that lasted for about ten minutes. I at first was completely baffled. So baffled in fact that I just stood there for a few minutes trying to figure out what that was all about. Then I remembered that you are two years old. I picked you up, put you onto the sofa and then ate the graham cracker myself. That’ll teach you.In your defense I’d like to point out that the next day the stomach virus you were carrying emerged and I realized that maybe that might have had something to do with it as well. Sometimes, it’s just hard to tell.
For your (and your brothers) birthday Papaw and Nana got you a pint sized table and chairs. You love it so. Every day you go in and sit at your table and look at your books, pointing to the pictures of things that you know and saying them to yourself softly. It’s the sweetest thing ever.
I tried singing to you on your birthday several times but each time I got to the second line, you would put your hand over my mouth and say, “Sto” which is the way that you say stop. After Daddy came home and we had your mini birthday party you were so distracted by the cake that was being moved in front of you that you allowed me to sing without protest. And when we asked you to blow out the candle, you did it like you’d done it a thousand times before. I always knew you were an old soul.
You are getting into dinosaurs and are really starting to dig your crayons and paints. You are like Zorro with an ink pen and I have to confess to sitting down and crying one day last week when you took a permanent marker to the sofa in the playroom. The stain guard that’s on it can handle anything… except that. I was only out of the room for a minute… ok ok, it was four minutes… but not a minute more. I’m sure that you don’t harbor any guilt from it, which is just as well since it’s my fault for not moving the pens out of the child proofed drawer. The child proofed drawer that I caught your brother teaching you how to open. You see, your brother wants you to open that drawer. In fact, he encourages it, because he enjoys seeing you in time out. In much the same way that you enjoy doing something and then pointing at Connor and blaming him. If a complete stranger saw the two of you in a room together, they wouldn’t doubt for a second that you were brothers. 
You’ve started school and we were lucky enough to get the same teacher the Connor had for you. We love her and so do you. The first few times you were dropped off you were just fine, but since have decided that maybe it’s not that great after all and that you’d rather be with me, asking where your brother is every fifteen seconds for the next four hours. As we approach the door you begin crying, but I know as I’m slipping away that I’ll soon be forgotten as you make paintings with golf balls and sing songs about wheels on buses and blind mice. When I come to retreive you the smile that awaits me is so full of joy that it was worth listening to the tears, just to see you so happy that I've come back. I'll always come back.
Happy Birthday Sugar Bear,
Mommy
