On Charlie at age two

***A couple months ago I wrote this draft in honor of Char's birthday, though even then it was quite belated. I would edit it before publishing if only that kiddo didn't wear me out so solid that I have nothing left in my brain at this hour. ***

A little while back, Charlie was promoted to age two. On June 3rd, for the record. You may presume that I was frightened for this child to embark on the "terrible twos" and to claim all this year entails. Truly, though, I've known for a while that it's looking nothing but up with this child.

If ever I find myself exasperated with the terribleness of his twos (and indeed I do, almost daily), I need only recall where he once was-- how far we have come.



And while every parent hopes for a child that is naturally well-mannered, obedient, and calm, I know it's the child who tries the patience and stretches the bounds of sanity that best promotes growth. Truly, I see that I have needed this boy for my own character development every bit as much as he's needed me.

(For instance, I don't judge other parents for not being able to control their children anymore.)



Yes, while he naps, the rest of us experience quiet relief and relaxation that is never possible in Charlie's presence. But we are still excited to hear his sounds of waking-- to watch him speed-waddle to the kitchen, clutching multiple nuks and emphatically demanding, "eat! eggs!" or something of the sort.



And though cleaning up after his potty time is truly more work than simply changing diapers, how proud we are of how immediately he took to using his own little potty-- the effort and maturity that his chart of scattered reward stickers signifies.

You wouldn't guess now that he was previously the quintessentially clingy mama's boy. This kid has developed a degree of independence that has left precious little time in his busy schedule for snuggling and the sort. (That's where the new baby will come in, right?)



Still, he's generous with hugs and kisses. And twice a day he counts on being cradled into my arms-- nuk, blanky, book, sippy, and stuffy in tow-- and gently hums along with my bedtime serenade, nuzzling his very warm (and often damp) little head on my heart, there to stay.