My Brigham is 2-years-old

You were born in the wee hours of the morning on May 2nd. It was 2:22 a.m. to be exact. It felt as if I had waited forever for you to arrive. Labor began at 7 a.m. the day before. I writhed in pain during the last hours of labor. You, stuck in the wrong position, kept butting your head against my tailbone. I remember breathlessly repeating to anyone who would listen . . . I just want him out. I just want him here. Please God let it end.

I remember pushing so hard for you. Pushing until I felt like my head would explode. I closed my eyes tight on the last push. And then I heard someone say, “Open your eyes, Molly!”

When I did there you were. My beautiful baby boy. I don’t know why but I immediately exclaimed, “There’s my little stinker!”

You were seconds old and I already knew you. I knew your personality. You can definitely be a little stinker sometimes. But we love that about you.

Your first year was not easy. You were sick a lot and had ear tube surgery at only six months due to severe double ear infections. You wheezed and coughed and sneezed for most of your first year. I remember holding you in my arms when you were teeny tiny. I would gently rock you back and forth while you cried uncontrollably. I would lean into you and say, “Mama’s gonna win this battle. Mama always wins.” I knew you needed sleep and I did anything and everything I could to make it happen.

I recall that I once went outside into the black of the night and allowed the singing of crickets to lull you to sleep. It was my idea. And it worked.

But on your first birthday (and consequently the day that we moved to our new house) it was like someone flipped a switch. You slept through the night for the first time ever. You woke up with a huge smile on your face every morning. You no longer wheezed and coughed and sneezed. It was a new year and a new you!

Your personality started to shine. You are so curious. So playful. So spirited. So silly. I knew you would be strong-willed and stubborn at times. That’s how you were born, after all.

But oh, Brigham, how you make us laugh. You do everything your brother does. I know you’re not supposed to be able to do these things yet but you do them anyway. Because that’s who you are. You refuse to be left behind.

At two-years-old you can jump up and down, lunge off of couches and do somersaults. You walk up and down stairs with no support. Pedal a bike with no problem. You seem much older than you are. You can’t stand to feel left out and are a very determined little guy.

You try to repeat everything we say. You just recently started sounding out the alphabet. I feel so much joy when I hear you talk.

When I say, “I love you,” you reply, “too, mama.” My heart soars.

You love anything with wheels and you call police cars and fire trucks “woo-woo” trucks because of the sounds they make when they go by.

You adore reading. Even when I’ve read you five stories you still say, “more books, mama.”

Your newest smile is a crooked one, with teeth showing and cute squinted eyes. It’s your special smile and I love it.

At night, after I lay you in your crib, I lean down and put my arm through the crib slat. I stroke the hair that hangs on your forehead and watch your eyes get heavy. I tell you how special you are and how proud of you I am for all you are learning and doing.

This year with you and your brother has been amazing. I can’t imagine how much more fun we’ll have in the months and years to come.

I thank God every day that I’m the one that gets to wake up with you in my house and in my heart.

Happy second birthday! All the love in the world, my silly little Brigham.