Two-years-old

Joseph Ray Witters, just a few hours old.

December 28, 2007

8 pounds 6 ounces.

When we found out we were pregnant with our second baby, I could not have been more thrilled. As a parent, you never know what heaven may send you to tend, to raise, to love, to teach during their turn on earth; being blessed to have kids, I find it to be like roulette, you just wait and see what there is in store for you.

Of course you love whom ever the Lord entrusts to you.

My son. It has been a fantastic and oft scary two years with you. You are the poster child for "little boy": rambunctious, mischievous, rough-and-tumble, busy, mud-loving, train choo-chooin', truck crashing, jumping, climbing, falling, kid I have ever met--with permanently bruised knees and shins to prove it. You will stop what ever you are doing if you hear an airplane and search the sky until you find it. You make me laugh on a daily basis with your silly nature. You always have a plan and a means of execution, when there is something you want. Often, you rearrange furniture, or pile up objects until you can climb to the object of your desire. You are "that kid" in nursery who hits over toys (a Mickey Mouse train to be exact) and has to spend time in time-out. You run from circle time, and if the toy cabinet is not locked after the toys have been put away, you have been known to break into it, and get them back out while the other kids are sitting nicely eating or at activity time. Your father and I laugh all the way home talking about the "report" we just got from your teachers upon picking you up. You can now talk in 4 and 5 word sentences (which blows me away), are learning to recognize a few letters, you love to count and sing the ABC's. You can navigate using the mouse on the computer, clicking on things you want to see.

Did I mention you are JUST BARELY TWO??

There is such a tender side to you, too. You love your older sister more than anyone, and look for her first thing in the morning, and after naps. I love how you pronounce her name, "See-dee." You are learning to say prayer at the table all by yourself, and shout "AMEN!!" often in the middle of others' prayers so you can eat. I love it. You also love to carry around a "snuggie" when you are tired (that is what you call your special silky blankets). You like to play princess. Yes, princess. I think that is a side effect of having an older sister. You will bring me a snuggie, turn your back to me and ask, "Princess, mama?" I have to drape it around your shoulders, and tie it in the front making a sort of dress/cape. You walk--nay--you STRUT away feeling regal.

I often look around my house and find permanent marker on surfaces it doesn't belong (my kitchen table, or the window seal), books with pages torn out, play dough crammed in various places I would never have thought to put it (and am still trying to figure how to get out), piles of clothes covered in food to be tended before they begin to stink (much worse). I have had to hold my tongue more than once after stepping on a sharp little car with a bare foot nearly twisting my fat ankle in the process, I cringe when you leap from the coffee table, or bed to the floor with no thought to how far that actually is for a little guy. I chuckle watching you begin to try and potty in the toilet, missing COMPLETELY. I am realizing life with a little boy has it's unique challenges. Son, I would not have it any other way. And, Joe Joe, I KNOW someday, when you are grown, and my house stays clean, and your little bruises heal, my heart will long for that little boy who drank from his favorite pink bottle at bed time, who would hold his snuggie tight with the lights out, and lift a finger to silently ask for just one more book to be read to him. I will wish for you to pucker and give wet kisses while "mmmmmm"-ing, and double cupping my face. I so cherish these days. I know they are fleeting.

Two-years. Just like that.