Dear Samuel Benjamin,
Two years ago you entered our lives, quiet, soft, round, and full of love. From the moment you were placed on my chest--eyes open and looking around, neck straining to lift your head--it was instant love. I can't believe my little baby is a full-fledged two year-old!
From that very first day of life, you've been a contented, smiley, friendly, and curious little fella. Your first year was a blur of chubby extremities, gummy smiles, fuzzy hair growth, bouts of mastitis and thrush, drippy chins, ticklish thighs, crawling, walking and getting yourself into all sorts of situations.
And then, just like that, you were one. Round, soft, kissable cheeks. Busy feet. Love for anything with wheels. Your sister's constant companion.
Your second year was full of even more adventures and shenanigans. Your hair started growing in like crazy, taking you from baby to beiber in just a few months. You developed a love for sticks. You started running, and then never stopped. Through it all you maintained a happy, easygoing, friendly demeanor and never stopped giving snuggles.
And now, sweet babe, you are TWO. The year of tantrums and no, of running away and testing limits. In just the last month you finally started to say no, but it comes out more like "Mo!" You shake your head and stamp your feet, run away laughing hysterically and ignore me when I call out.
You also snuggle deep in my neck, offer sweet kisses and pats and hugs each and every day, reach out to your sister when she's sad, fill your Daddy's heart with joy when he walks in the door, and delight every person you meet. You are, like Maddie, extraordinarily extroverted. You make friends no matter where we go, smiling and waving, yelling "Hiii!"
You are full of joy. You love to laugh and sing. You're not afraid to perform on cue, stealing our hearts with "la la la la la" or galloping around the room.
You love to figure things out, take them apart, and put them back together. You are obsessed with tools, ladders, and anything with wheels. You love to be outside and would run and run forever if I let you.
You are kind and gentle. You treat your sister with such tenderness and care that it never fails to melt my heart. The two of you are dear, dear friends who delight in each other and miss each other when you're apart.
You enjoy being scared and squeal with delight, signing and pleading "More! More!" as we chase, tackle, tickle and surprise you.
Sometimes in the morning before calling out, I hear you in your crib singing, laughing, entertaining yourself in the sweetest little sing-song voice. You will sit and snuggle, wrapping your arms around my shoulders and patting me with those broad little hands.
When we were at Grammy & Papa's last week, nearly every nap time we laid down together in that big bed, snuggling and laughing, me pretending to sleep while you pointed out my features, naming them. Every few minutes you would get quiet, then reach up to stroke my face or lean in to kiss me on the lips. Again and again you'd repeat this little pointing, stroking, kissing game until eventually those eyelids would fall and your breathing would grow slow and rhythmic. And I would bask in the joy that is being your Mama. Seeing you sleep. Listening to you breathe. Feeling the warmth of your body tucked under my arm. Smiling to myself each time you'd twitch awake, reach out for me, then coax yourself back to sleep.
It is such a privilege and joy being your Mama. I can't imagine a more fun, loving, affectionate, curious and adventurous little boy. Thank you for gracing our lives these past two years.