People in Louisiana say that someone "makes" a certain age rather than "turning" it, as in, "He just made 2 last week," and it always sounds funny to me, like it was some big accomplishment that the child got to another year in one piece.

Anyway, my boy is 2. Wow. He's practically a grown-up.

The birthday yesterday was great fun. We rushed around in the morning, making wraps and a last-minute run to the grocery store for ice and other essentials, and we got to the sprayground a little before 10 to set everything up. Friends trickled in over the next half hour, and we had a small but very nice little group to help celebrate. It's really too hot to have an outdoor party in July, even though we were in the shade, so we'll have to hold off on doing that anymore until we move to a cooler region. Someone mentioned to me yesterday that having a February baby seemed like a great plan to contrast our summer boy.

We had a book swap for all the kids so that everyone got to leave with a new book, and the kids all enjoyed playing in the water, eating the Nemo cake, and investigating their treat bags. Our camera forgot to come with us, so I'll have to get photos from friends to fill you in on the visual aspect of the party. Much food was consumed and celebrating done, but heat and naptimes forced us all to leave by about 12:30.

Kent and I both took a long nap when we got home — the sprayground is very skilled at making him tired enough to sleep 2+ hours, so that was nice. When he finally woke up a little after 3, he and Jack got father/son birthday haircuts (Kent is SO calm during the haircut process, which always makes me feel very lucky), and then we came back home to give him a few presents, including some from friends and family. We've been spacing out his presents from us over the last several days, and he'll have more arriving in the mail soon, so he gets a nice long, extended birthday celebration with a new toy/activity each day instead of a flood of new presents. We learned this past Christmas that he's really not impressed by opening a bunch of stuff all at once; one toy at a time is plenty for him, which is reassuring and lots of fun for us, too.

After presents, we went to Izzo's (a local burrito place like Qdoba and Chipotle) for dinner, one of my favorite joints that has food we all really enjoy, and Kent got phone calls from many people who wanted to sing to him and/or otherwise wish him a Happy Birthday. He loves helping to sing Happy Birthday to other people, supplying the "you" at the end of each line of the song, so he got a big kick out of hearing it directed toward him. Actually, when I sang it to him in the morning, he told me afterward that he wanted to sing it to me next, so I tried to explain that it was only his birthday, not mine. Sweet, no?

Kent played with some of his new stuff for a little while longer after we got home, and then we put our loving, funny boy to sleep and bid his birthday adieu. Jack and I were both in bed by 9:30, a true rarity these days. Generally what has been happening since I've started feeling rotten is that I go to bed by 9, and Jack stays up catching up on chores and wasting time on the internet until 10:30 or 11 since I'm not around to make him go to bed, though he always regrets it in the morning. I insisted that he get some sleep last night, even though there were many dishes in the kitchen and other stuff he could have been doing. He's a real superdad these days, picking up all the slack I'm leaving all over the house. I'm already coming up with ways to make it up to him once I start feeling better (in addition to the fact that he, like me, gets a baby at the end of it).

I'm amazed that Kent is 2, and yet it's also completely expected and normal. We were having a little talk the evening before his birthday, him sitting naked in my lap before his bath, about the day he was born and how exciting it all was. I told him he was all wet and wrinkly, but he was beautiful and had a wonderful nose and great eyelashes, in addition to just being an amazing gift to Jack and me.

This year has seen him walk, run, start to use real language and amuse us with all the strange things he says, make friends, develop an interest in Sesame Street and Finding Nemo and Hello Dolly and all his other favorites, learn new methods of destruction, learn to throw a ball, talk on the phone with his grandparents, share, take, whine, whisper, sing, rhyme, clap, march, tiptoe, water plants, drink from a big boy cup, use utensils, "help" in the kitchen, memorize books, kiss, hug, and say "I love you." What else is there in life? Maybe math skills and social awareness, but that's about it. Oh, and the potty thing.

There will undoubtedly be more mysteries for us to uncover each year as our little boy makes his way in the world. He's off to a fantastic start, this two-year-old of mine.

Labels: eating out, getting older, husband things, Kent

• posted by erica 7/04/2009 12:38:00 PM
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