He's Two.

He's sweet. And little. He spends his first hour of waking curled in our laps, cuddled with his blankie, in a warm state of half asleep. He's big. At least, he wants to be big. He follows his brother and friends from room to room, from adventure to adventure, a little the outcast but trying with his might to be included. He's crafty. Quick to smuggle a piece of chalk, a marker, or crayons. He carries it in his little hand and the world is his canvas (the proof is written all over my walls). He's an entertainer. Smiling his big toothy grin when anyone comes come over; quick to jump and dance for you on command. He's wild. A climbing, roaring, exploring little boy. The definition of Max from Where the Wild Things Are.

He's two. Somewhere in the middle place of baby and boy. A small little person that's big in our family. He changed me, the day he was born. Coming into the world in a scary, emergent, heart stopping way. And has shown me since then, what a gift I was given. Two years ago this day.

And I'll always be thankful. For my boy that is two.