An Open Letter To My Son on His 2nd Birthday
Oliver Douglas—
On the night you were born, your dad and I were one of the few people on the road at 2 a.m. on a weeknight and we were right behind a couple on a crotch rocket. We could see her whale tail and as I tried to breathe through another contraction, all I could think about was how different their night was from ours. It was a good distraction, though, the whale tale.
I couldn’t believe we’d be meeting you soon and even as my abdomen continued to cramp, I convinced myself this couldn’t possibly be happening. As you know now, what felt like a million hours, too much pushing, and a vacuum to your little skull later, you were in our arms and I was totally stunned. I kept staring at you wondering how and we made this and who is this person going to be and what now?
Two years later (!!!!!!), we are so bonded that I feel like a part of me is missing when we aren’t together. I’ve been watching you learn so many new words and skills and ways of being in the world. I’ve watched you be patient and kind and ornery and silly. I’ve watched you change so much and, in many ways, stay exactly the same.
What do I know about two year old you?
Oliver is SO smart. Like, the smartest. What other kid connects ideas the way you do and after a weekend in Leavenworth, tells school on Monday that his favorite part of the weekend was “sausage”?
Oliver is a pretty picky eater and prefers rice or sausage to pretty much anything else.
Oliver LOVES Sesame Street and Elmo and trying to use the voice commands on the remote to get the TV to play Sesame Street without mom or dad queuing it up.
For a little toddler man, Oliver is very patient, and also very careful. Oliver puts his cups on coasters, carries the popcorn bowl very carefully to his table, and mostly listens when we ask to pet the meows nicely.
Oliver is territorial and does not like when other kids want to be on the slide at the park, or around in general. But when his friends come over, Oliver is a good little sharer, even when he doesn’t want to be.
Oliver HATES getting his hair washed (just like his dada did, apparently), wipes on his “cold booty” for diaper changes, and brushing his teeth. Don’t tell Papa.
Oliver is great helper. He follows me with his vacuum to clean up the spots I missed, waters the flowers, pushes his own cart at Trader Joe’s, and really likes to use his drill.
We love to watch movies together and eat ice cream and sniff flowers on walks. We love to go on adventures and read books and learn about “animos.” It’s so fun to watch you develop relationships with people in your life and discover new things while also remembering all the things you like already. You are our most special dude, ODP, and I am so proud of the two-year-old you are. I can only imagine how much prouder I’ll be as I get to know you more.
My wishes for you are that you’ll never feel the need to compromise who you are to please someone else, that you’ll follow your gut and your curiosities to fun places, and that you’ll love your momma and dada always.
Happy birthday to us, mister man!
Momma
