Happy Birthday, Garett

If tears could do the talking, then that's all the words I would need on a day like this. On Sunday my baby turns two.


Two. As in the amount of seconds ago I held you for the first time--a living, breathing, perfect little human; weighing in at 8 pounds, 6 ounces of absolute breathtaking handsomeness. All the nurses agreed you were the most perfect looking baby they ever did see. Some nurses cried when you left--and I knew why. I couldn't have imagined laying eyes on you and then not seeing you ever again, either.


It's hard to believe that two years ago, after almost exactly 9 hours of labor: 7 of contractions and two of pushing (and a virtually useless epidural), you came into the world. My world. Our world. More tears poured out of mine and daddy's eyes than ever before--and no words other than "You're perfect, I love you" being repeated in unison from our lips. I have never loved your daddy more, and could not have imagined being able to love you, a person I just met, as much as I already did. That love somehow manages to grow each and everyday, buddy. You are the smile that crosses my face as I sleep, the first breath of fresh air on a crisp fall day, the pep in my step on Friday afternoons; you are all the wonderful things in life. My reason for being.


You were an early walker--taking those first steps right before you were 10 months old. You knew the world was a big place, even then. You have no fear. You are the fiercest person I know. The world will be yours someday, you will conquer it. In those first few heavy-footed wobbly steps, I knew. You are really something--a force to be reckoned with, a sight to be seen.


You have always been a good eater. Though you are skinny (24 lbs and counting), you have a big heart, a big soul, and hollow legs that never seem to be filled. There's always room for more. More snacks, more juice, more kisses and more playing--more,more,more. Demand it, always.


In this last year, you have taught me many things about being a mommy. I have learned a new language, and often it is one that only you and I speak. You are getting to be quite the little talker, and yet sometimes you spew out words that only a mommy can translate. I think it's because you know it's our little secret. Thank you for that. I know it won't last forever, but I will always remember it.


Those big brown eyes that dig deep down into my soul: a measly little glance from those eyes, when they are squinted with a smile--it makes my heart skip a beat. It actually near pains me how pure those eyes are; the power behind them, the potential they hold is quite amazing.


You love all things that go vroom (planes, trains, boats, tractors, busses trucks, cars), you love all animals (domestic and wild--as well as Dinosaurs), you love musical instruments (being played to, watching, playing them yourself), you love shoes/boots/hats, books (especially those about Thomas, Caillou or animals), your tools, to spin in circles, to jump as high as you can, you know what tv shows you like and often yell them for from the top of your lungs. You LOVE baths, naps, laying in my bed relaxing before bedtime, the tickle monster, when we play the piggy game with your toes. You love to climb, to roll, to dive, to hide. You love to help me with the laundry and dishwasher. You LOVE to paint, to colour, to draw. You love to push buttons and work the light switches. To be chased, and to chase until you are out of breath. You love when you accomplish something yourself --opening a door, reaching a new level in your game, to which you declare "I did't!!!!!" and mommy claps and cheers.

To be honest, you love everything. You are such a joy, a light cheerful heart to have around. You show me how important it is that even when things aren't perfect, or going according to my plan, there is still fun and laughter to be had. You've taught me to let go of the things I cannot change. Quite the accomplishment for a two year old!


Two. As in the amount of hearts I would need to hold all the love. The amount of brains I would need to hold all the memories and thoughts of you. The amount of parents you have that would do any and everything for you. The amount of times in a single fleeting second I think about you. The amount of times my heart skipped its beat when I look at you.


On this special day, I want to say: I love you, happy birthday, and thank you so much for being the one that God sent to me. He knew exactly what I needed, and absolutely was thinking of me when he created you. I love you to the moon and back, munchkin. I know this birthday party is more for us than you, since you still won't remember this one either. But hopefully it will be pictures to add to the albums, so you may look back one day and know that "YES" your mommy and daddy have ALWAYS loved you this much. Since the moment we found out you were coming, to the last breath I take in this world, and even after that; I will love you.