Little Boy Two

My dear Keston,

I was up very late last night (it was a Hallowed Eve, after all), long after you and Mummy had gone to bed to prepare the house for your birthday party today.   I was deep in the middle of washing the floors and was idly rinsing the soiled mop when I was suddenly overcome and nearly burst into tears standing there over the sink of dirty, grey water.    I don’t know why it suddenly hit me, but I was going to have a 2-year-old boy the next day and it suddenly rushed in on me.    It’s not like I didn’t have warning, of course…your mum and I have been hard at work preparing for this day for some weeks if not months, but…I guess I suddenly stopped to think about it.    Something as mind-numbing as mopping will do that to you.

Two years old — a whole 730 days gone by where you have been in my life, spicing it up, making me both laugh my ass off and pull my hair out, where my heart has seemingly both grown 50 times its size and I have found a wellspring of joy and happiness that — well, frankly, I’m a sour old man — I didn’t think existed in this world anymore.

And yet, there you are, day in and day out, excitedly running up to me with a, “Daddy!   Daddy!” and then your usual string of words and babble as you struggle to bring me up to speed and take me in to play on the floor with you and your trains.    Or as we’re wrestling and rolling around on the floor and we’ll stop and look each other in the eyes and you’ll push your nose in for an Eskimo kiss.     Or how you stand there on your stool, intent on being right there as my kitchen helper, partly because you want to know what I’m doing and your curiosity is almost boundless, but mostly because I’m there, and if being on a stool in a kitchen means being close to me, then you’re happy.    And so am I.

Two years ago by now we were probably hanging out in the recovery room, cooing over you wrapped tightly in a bundle and wondering what was coming next and marveling that we were now at the end of one part of the journey whilst simultaneously starting in on a much larger, unexplored one.    I think at that point my heart was so torn in different directions that I didn’t know what to think of the entire experience and now…well, I couldn’t have imagined where we’ve been so far.    I’m really excited to see where we’re going next.

I find it difficult to express into words exactly how much you consume me every day and how much I enjoy that feeling, no matter how difficult it sometimes is or how much it taxes my mind.   You are that which I think of first every morning and the person I think of every night before I fall asleep.    For nobody else do I awaken at 4:30 in the morning and get out of bed just to hover quietly by your crib to make sure you are still breathing, and safe, and warm.     Everything I do when I’m around you has some Keston-content within, whether it’s watching out to make sure you don’t get hurt, wondering how you’ll figured into plans, or simply wondering what you’re up to and what you’re thinking.

I feel like your 2nd year of hanging around this blue-green ball will be an exciting, pivotal one, as you are now getting to the point of being able to really communicate, to put words into complex sentences, to have enough vocabulary to really express yourself, and we are already starting to have some cute little conversations.    You get this big huge grin of satisfaction on your face when you say something, ending in a question, I say it back and give you an answer, and you smile huge as you say enthusiastically, “YES!”   I think you realize that we’re really starting to make some progress on this speaking-thing and within short time, we’ll really be able to pass around information and be on the same page.

I look forward to it, because if nothing else, you’ve taught me that there’s always something more about you that I want to know, and I want to understand what’s behind those dancing baby blue eyes of yours, your funny facial expressions, eyebrow lifts, and hands tossed up in a shrug while a stream of half-words come out your mouth.    And some day, when you’ve progressed far enough and understand a whole lot more, you’ll be able to read what I’ve written here and know how very much your daddy loves you and how he can’t wait to be your daddy this next year — decade — century — FOREVER.

I love you so very much, my big beautiful boy.   A very happy 2nd birthday to you.

Love,

Daddy

© Nathan Pralle for PhilosYphia, 2009. | Permalink | 3 little comments jumping on the bed. | Subscribe RSS