Pistachio Turned Two

A few weeks late my dearest little.
You turned two.  TWO!
And cried when we sang to you.
And passed on the cake, too.
Because now it’s time to do things your way.
Because you’re two.

$0.25 for the horse ride at the grocery store. Money well spent on my little buckaroo. ❤️

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Our puzzle doer, our book reader, who loves to show us and tell us that you get it, that you’ve got things figured out. You ask for what you want. Your demands are most often reasonable, a banana, a book, a binkie, a blanket, and bed.

We hired "Busy Bear" lawn service this year. They do terrible work, but they sure are charming.

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Skeptical ewok.

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Our blonde, dimple-cheeked boy, with the adorable almost-buck-toothed grin and throaty giggle.  I worry about that mischievous glint in your eye, but I don’t worry much.

Little brother at soccer. Cheese!

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"Whaddaya ya gonna do, eh?"

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Our curious boy, who tries to stump us, by suggesting random animals and items during our nightly singing of “Old MacDonald.”  I never knew that Old MacDonald’s farm contained a bear, an ear and a blanket.  And I do not know what sound an ear makes.

THS unfiltered. I'll eat you up I love you so.

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Celebrating his Scandinavian heritage.

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Our cuddly guy, the one most likely to climb into my lap, and cuddle into my side. Always willing to snuggle in the low light before bed.  Longer legs dangle now, but your head still fits perfectly between my ear and my shoulder.

Mama and T cheeses.

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I love how you love your siblings, and how they love you.  The three of you are so joyful in the mornings, when you greet each other in your room, tickled that you’re all together another day, making that laughing, glorious noise that can only be created by gaggles of small delighted children. You are gifts to one another.  You are gifts to us.

Then one foggy Christmas Eve…

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Serious scooting.

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I love you so much my dear littlest one. Happy birthday to you.

60 degree Christmas #hannajams

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