Two Years

In the fall, my oldest daughter said of her one-year-old brother, “That boy will be two before you know it! It’s like I always say: where there’s a baby, that baby will just keep on growing.” The seven-year-old is wise.

Last year on this day, I wrote this post about my little guy, and he has indeed turned two before we knew it.

And while it was a bit of a blur, we are happy to report we’ve kept Fielder alive this year, because we all know that’s a feat with toddlers. He has scarcely left my sight in the past year lest he kill himself or others.

Our kitchen chairs have not been upright for months since he likes to climb. Our couch is steam cleaned constantly due to kefir spills, one of the few food items he accepts (though he’s made progress with his food aversions in speech therapy since starting in the spring).  Neflix is often tuned to Trolls or Moana, and he also has a deep appreciation for Peppa and Elmo (El-no).

Gramps and Daddy are his favorite people, aside from me. He asks me all day, “Where Dada go?” Sometimes he wakes in the night, where he typically sleeps beside me, and yells, “Dat Dada!” as he points at him.

He is a man of few words and even fewer tricks, but he has retained yelling, “Touchdown!” with hands stretched to the sky like a good coach’s boy. If he sees the YouTube emblem, he says, “Oh oh oh?” because he wants to watch Beyonce’s “Single Ladies.” (He’s such a dude).

School starting in the fall messed with his sleep schedule and he wasn’t happy about it.  Now that school is out, he refuses to nap, instead night owling with his mama.

Fielder is easily amused and could entertain himself for hours with a cup and random objects to fill and empty the cup. He shreds every piece of paper he finds. He is often shy and quiet but eventually tries to fist bump everyone in the room. He likes to travel and is always happily along for the ride. If I can choose just one child to accompany me to the store, I choose him.

He’s quirky and fun and sweet and my favorite little dude. My biggest hope is that his constant cuddles don’t cease anytime soon, and that three won’t arrive so swiftly.

(And also, that he would nap).

-Amanda