To My Two Year Old
you are two; you have no manners.
you cannot reach the door knob without standing on your tiptoes.
you are irrational.
you are too short to reach that toy on the shelf, which means that you are also screaming in unhappiness at that fact.
you are clumsy.
you spill things.
you cannot fart without laughing.
i see your mind working, figuring things out about the world around you for the first time
so eager are you to be big like your daddy
you want to be a “big boy”
Daddy asks “you my buddy?”
“I you buddy” you reply
you want to play with dad’s tools in the shop
i see determination in your face as you concentrate on whatever you are you doing ( which is usually the most important thing in the world to you at the time)
slow down dear heart, the more manners you gain,
the better you get at drinking from a cup without spilling,
the more you grow up.
The more you learn,
the closer you get to being good at things, the closer you get to leaving me.
so be bad at things for awhile dear love
cry when you dont get your way and come crawl into my lap
snuggle into me as you let out one final contented sigh as you fall asleep in my arms, for what will one day be the last time,
i promise to enjoy these years with patience
i love you