Dear Little Man, You completed your second lap around the sun this past weekend, and for the first time since celebrating one of my childrens' birthdays, I wasn't sad. I wasn't filled with an overwhelming ache over your growth at breakneck speeds. I wasn't heavy-hearted over moments that like lightning bugs glowed and then quickly faded, becoming a part of the darkness of the past.
I was just happy. Happy for your health, happy for the family around us to celebrate, happy that you are this very age in this very season of life.
There is no profundity, nothing I could explore that hasn't already been discovered and about which the poets haven't already waxed eloquent. You just turned two, and you are joyously content.
You joined our family at a time of great exhaustion. You slithered in, marsupial-like, demanding very little beyond snuggles and milk. You continue to ask very little of me beyond snuggles and snacks. And Youtube videos of trains.
Thank you for being our laidback second-born, quick to smile a bedimpled grin, brimming with laughter and twinkly eyes, hands curling a toy tractor and train car like secondary appendages. You are a charming creation, teaching me everyday about the power of a heart at peace. You are a little professor of contentment. You are the lightning bug in my hands, glowing just for me.
Love, Mama ***