Two Years Ago

Dear Dexter,

Two years ago today your dad and I went out to eat at La Cucina in Havre de Grace. It was the last time we'd eat together as a kid-free couple. We ate pizza. We ate dessert because, hey, why the hell not? We decided, after much struggle, on your name. Not that we don't love your name - we do. We really do. We just thought everyone would wonder if you were named after the serial killer TV show character. Which, of course, you were. It's an awesome show! He's a GOOD serial killer!

And then we went to the hospital, calmly said we had an appointment to have a kid, got checked in and hooked up to IV lines, baby heart rate monitors, mama heart rate monitors, contraction measuring devices, etc etc. And we settled in for a long, kind of sleepless night of waiting for your arrival day to come.

In a blink of an eye (in some ways. In some ways, giving birth to you seems like it was SO. LONG. AGO.) here we are two years later. TWO! And you are a funny, cute, happy little man who gets funnier and cuter every day. I can't vouch for your degree of happiness, as yesterday you were in time out about seven billion times and finally sat in your chair at dinner with the following choice: Sit down to eat, or go to bed? You thought for a second and pointed to your chair. Good choice, kiddo. Good choice.

Here's a little peek at who you are right now, at almost two:

Last time you went to the doctor you were 33 and a half pounds. I haven't the slightest idea how tall you are, except to say that at the babysitting room at the Y I have a hard time picking you out in the crowd of older kids because you are just as tall as many of them. You're in size 2T clothing, but some of those have already gone in the "too small" box as the arms seem to keep getting shorter and shorter, and the pant legs are slowly creeping up toward your knees.

You got a hair cut the other day. Daddy took you for the first time. He said you weren't terrible. You were by no means good about it. But you pretty much sat on Daddy's lap, pitifully whispering "all done" as the nice lady cut your hair. High five, Dex. Good work.

Your list of sign language is impressive. Last time I updated the list, it was well over 50 words. And you've picked up more since then. We still have a hard time deciphering. The other day Daddy asked me to come in to the room to figure out what you were saying. Wind? Blowing? Leaves? No. Sledding. You wanted to watch the sledding video.

Your list of spoken words grows daily. The current favorite word is "no." I suspect it will remain that way for about as long as you live in this house. We're working on getting you to say "yes" just to balance it out a bit, but for now you're pretty content to just sit around and sing "no no no no" all morning long.

Most of the words that you will sign you can actually say, if prompted. But you don't usually say them unless prompted. For some reason it's easier for you to use your hands than your vocal cords. But once you learn a word well, bye-bye sign. I quick did a video of you reading a few books the other day. It had been on my "to do" list for a long time, so I could capture your sign language. So I finally did the video a few days ago before you dropped all signs and just moved to words.

You LOVE cars. Your current favorite game involves a yellow and orange car for me and a blue car for you, and driving them around on the train table. Through the tunnels. Over the train tracks. Of course, explaining when the train crossing is up, and when it is down. And making the "bump bump bump" sound that cars make when they go over train tracks. That always makes you giggle. Coming in a close second to that game is one involving a school bus for you and a Thomas the Train for me. Your bus picks up various objects and takes them to school - a blue cup, a yellow car, a wood pile. Every object says "hi" when it goes up the stairs, and "bye" when it goes down the stairs. What your blue cup is going to learn at school, I have no idea. But I am certainly happy it has decided to go.

You dearly love your dog. Which is a damn shame, as John is convinced that the allergist is going to tell us to kick his little fat ass to the curb when we go there on Tuesday. Whenever you see Buddy's bone lying on the ground you pick it up and go running through the house calling "Buh-hee" so you can give it back to him. Bless Buddy's little heart, he takes that bone so gently from your little fingers. You like to fall down to the ground, and then call Buddy to come over to lick your face. You had a fit (and a time out) yesterday because I put Buddy outside and you desperately wanted "Buh-hee INNN." You know that "Mah-hee" is Grandpa's dog, and Buddy is your dog. And you get so excited to help lock Buddy in his crate every time we leave the house. If that doesn't say "I love you" I don't know what does.

You still love to read books. We read every day and you can't seem to get enough. When you play in your room by yourself you always pull books out. The other day I looked in to see what you were doing, and heard you babbling away, with the occasional "saahp" thrown in. You were looking at a book of shapes, and a stop sign. Oh, how you love stop signs. You know how to spell stop. And just recently you learned how to spell go.

You are a ridiculous back seat driver who will no longer nap in the car because looking out to see everything on the road is far too exciting. What if you miss seeing a stop light? Or a green light? Or a school bus? You just can't risk it, so you keep your eyes peeled to the road at all times.

You're a good helper. You toss paper towels around the room when I clean the windows. You help put cans on the check-out counter when we're at the grocery store. Sometimes you even leave them there so we can pay for them. You use your own broom when I sweep. You run and hide in the bathroom when I turn on the vacuum cleaner. And you LOVE to help me cook. You pull up a chair to the counter, climb up, and help dump in ingredients, stir, and of course, taste test. Your favorite recipes involve cheese. Any kind of cheese will do, so long as you can eat it.

You have a newfound appreciation for dancing. Your method usually involves lots of spinning. So much so that you eventually lose your balance and come crashing down to the ground. Which, of course, is part of the whole dance routine. If we go someplace with different colored squares or lines, you'll go dance on each color. Just for fun.

You adore a good game of hide and seek. Be it hiding in a box in the basement, hiding behind the shower curtain in the bathtub, hiding behind your hands, or simply closing you eyes because if you can't see me, certainly I can't see you... All of it makes you giggle like mad. Which makes everyone happy. There's not much better in this world than you giggling hysterically.

Happy Birthday, little man. There's a pile of presents on the table waiting for you to open in the morning. And two super cool balloons that Aunt Jeanne helped pick out. And CAKE! Hooray CAKE! I hope you have a kick-ass birthday.

Lots and lots of love,

Mama

Photos from the Please Touch Museum today. We took Daddy and Aunt Jeanne with us. Aunt Jeanne fondly described it at "kid hell." She likes kids. Honest.