Every year on their birthdays I write the girls a love letter of sorts. This year, I’m behind, but with a little grace for belated salutations, I’m still here keeping up the tradition. Bean turned two a little over a month again. My baby is no longer an actual baby.
My last baby. You were a twist to our life, but the happiest kind, my darling. Just when I thought I made my peace with our new home and a smaller family, Daddy and I made you. Sometimes the best things in like are the ones you stumble into tired and stretched thin from life.
You arrived into the world with a noteworthy head of hair, small, and despite a pregnancy different than your sisters, still a girl. Which was lovely and comfortable since we know our way around little girls.
You came a day early which spoiled plans to share a birthday with your grandfather and you almost made your Daddy miss your debut– not that you would have noticed, but I always like a little company when I’m overwhelmed with the stainless sterile steel of needles and IVs and other things of the like. You might have met a more frazzled me had he missed the main event. I hope holding his hand gives you a little more strength for the harder parts of life like it does for me.
You, this year, grew up on me. You left infant behind and became a toddler with your own demands and stubborn stances. God, I hope I find the balance to teach you obedience for rules of the house, but not to finish your fire. That spark is important.
You are now two and into everything. You love to collect things and redistribute them through our home. Drawers full of toys and cabinets hold out of place snacks. You like to color– on paper, tables, baby dolls, walls, or whatever medium you see fit. It is a thing we’re trying to tame to paper or canvas, but it’s like different textures call to you. You make marks with gusto and joy. You have a little bit of artist in your soul.
Your vocabulary grew the past few months. You call the dog, tell her to sit, ask where she is when we’re not home and to wait. You know a lot about taking to your dog. You chase you sister around the house squealing “I’m gonna get you!” As you giggle deep from your belly and break the no-running-in-the-house rule. You still call your two older sisters Dimples, but I think you might be doing it to mess with them a little.
You run and climb and explore, but then come find my arms to carry you and snuggle. Your in my arms more than not… but I know it won’t always be that way. I try to savor it– even if I lose my cool once in awhile about trying to do things one handed.
Your two years here have had a lot of memories already. My dear Bean, my last baby, you are the one who gets a wiser, more experienced, exhausted me… and then teaches me that you will take me places new and unexpected. All my experience means nothing some days. You are your own person. Thank you for keeping my ego in check.
I love you in ways that I never fathomed. Happy second birthday, Bean. Can’t wait to see what this year will bring to us.