Daxohol: Day 730

My Darling Little Bug (I actually call you this),

Today was your 2nd birthday. In all the history, in all the world, not even the best poets, playwrights and bloggers can put into words how deeply we love you and how proud your “Dod” and I are of you.

You are an incredible person. You have an extraordinary sense of humour and imagination. You are so compassionate and loving it brings tears to my eyes. Except when you smack us. That’s when I really have a hard time knowing what the hell you are thinking. You’ve got a temper. You always have, ever since day one. This whole bitch-slapping thing is a reflex of your frustration and you obviously need to learn how to handle that level frustration without hauling off and cheek spanking us. See, I have to type this out because I am really just trying to convince myself that you will grow out of this phase and your not going to grow up to become Slappy O’penpalm.

Yesterday we celebrated your birthday by inviting a lot of people to the house. What can I say, I love a party and so do you! Even though you were running on sugar fumes and no nap, you were still a social butterfly, or half tuning everyone out while you played with your new toys. If there is one thing you do not lack, it is toys. Here’s the great thing. Your toys are all relatively sane. Meaning, you have only a very small amount of annoying toys, and in all of our toy history there has only ever been one toy that managed to penetrate The Great Wall of Maternal Tolerance.

You successfully blew out each and every candle on your cake with very gentle, deliberate and well thought out puffs. Your cake was sweet in more ways than one. We got your cake at the same bakery as we did last year. We snagged a picture of Pocoyo from the scrapbook your Gramma and I made for you so that you could have a Pocoyo cake. The look on your face when you saw Pocoyo on your cake was priceless. I have copied and pasted this warm and wonderful memory file into the “ammunition” folder. At some point in your life, you will get mad at me and say something really hurtful to me and accuse me of not being cool. Then I’ll remind you that on your second birthday, I was the person bringing you your Pocoyo cake and there could never be anyone that cool in the universe. Hopefully, the word “cool” will still be used…I think I already sound totally square.

But really, you are the shizznit. You’re smart, funny and charming. You’re affectionate. You are gentle with animals. You share your food with your stuffed friends of various species. You can count to 15, sometimes 20 in English and to 10 in Spanish. You are starting to learn some Ojibwae words too. You can even say apple in English, French and Spanish. You love to play hide and seek, play with playdoh and color. You’ve known your ABCs for a long time now! You love to explore and when we take you places you are so enthralled and enthusiastic. You define the term “fun-loving”.

Opps, went on a bit of a tangent there. It’s just that you make it so easy!

There were a lot of people here yesterday who love you and a lot of them don’t get to see you very much. I wanted to give them a chance to see you, and for you to see them. Not everyone could come, but they know that you know where they live, and that I cannot be held responsible if you raid their supply of broccoli and dessert tofu. That is, if they even have that stuff in their fridges. If not, then you’ll just scatter their cereal across the entire room.

Last night, you fell asleep right away, but woke up later still tripping out from all the social stimulation, cake, cookies and other sugarlicious treats. We had to take you downstairs to convince you that all the laughter from Unckie Ash, Auntie, Unckie Science Bear, Evil Unca C, MoneyBags Mackeck-Earn and Laura wasn’t “everybody crying”. I took you back upstairs and held you for awhile until you felt better. Hey, you only turn two once, so I’ll hold you till you come down. Don’t expect the same treatment when you’re twenty, if I catch you buzzing, we’ll have words and then I’ll make you scrub and clean the house top to bottom when you sober up, only to become high again from all the cleaning product fumes. No rest for the sloshed around here mister.

You had a wonderful birthday, it’s getting really late now and this working Mumma has to get to bed.

Happy Birthday little honey. I love you…with all my chicken.

PS - Since this is going up on Mumma's blog, I am taking this opportunity now to thank everyone who came to the party, and to tell everyone who couldn't be there that you were with us in spirit.

Comments

"in all of our toy history there has only ever been one toy that managed to penetrate The Great Wall of Maternal Tolerance."
Picture please, or at least name & manufacturer so we may find one. Someone may 'deserve' just such a toy.

Happy Two Day to the 'Bug'. Happy 'Two Day Party Over' to mama & dod.
Winda

Posted by: Xiaoyi | April 04, 2006 at 06:23 AM