One week ago, you turned two. Two of the best years of my life. You celebrated your short little life at Cascades Camp, where your dad and I met, and where two years prior, I had been just three days from giving birth to you.
It was a hot, sunny Yelm day. You spent the day doing everything a two-year-old could hope for; a softball game, a nap with Poppa after reading your new backhoe book, swimming in the lake and playing with everyone you love most in this world. As the sun was setting and a day full of laughter and play was coming to an end, you spied a sprinkler shining in the evening sunlight. You were drawn to it, and with unabashed joy, your entire world consisted of the water, your feet dancing in it, your laughs and shrieks as you discovered and experienced. What you didn't know, was that behind you, 40 plus people were watching with the same unabashed joy as you learned how to do what God created you to do. I will never in my life forget those five minutes, and hope that you find times, no matter what age, to experience life without inhibition, not caring what people think.
You are my sensitive boy. This last year I have watched as you learned words, learned to walk, to play the guitar, to read independently and form opinions and speak them. You wake each day asking for your favorite foods-applesauce and oatmeal. I cannot believe God has chosen me to be on the front row, cheering you on as you approach life, squealing and laughing as you go.