Month Thirty (Two-and-a-half years old!)

Dear Abe,
I can’t believe you are two and a half. That is so old. I shouldn’t be surprised, because you say, “I’m not a baby, I’m a BIG BOY!” You most certainly are, and especially now because you are in your big boy bed and not your crib.



Your Thomas obsession has grown to new heights. You definitely have not tired of ole Thomas. You love him so, and want every single train there is. When we are watching the show you say, “I want to buy that.” Because of your loving (and spoiling) grandparents you keep receiving lots of trains for no reason at all, which I have feared makes you think you can just get one when you want. So your Daddy and I have to tell you that maybe you can get it for your birthday. So now you say, “I want to buy that … for my birthday.”

Your language now has not only become more complex, but also you are figuring out what it means to be funny. And, I mean, who can blame you with two stand up comedians for parents (HA!) You will talk in silly voices and wait for us to laugh (your Daddy ALWAYS does). You love to quote movies, “AMMMEN!” (From “Coming to America”), and you like to tell your friends at school how a baby farts (poooooo – from “Elf”). I can only imagine what the future holds.



I am also impressed how you seem to remember every single thing we do and say, even when it doesn’t seem like you are paying attention. You can quote books. You can sing all the songs I sing to you at night – “Plenty of sunshine,” you tell me when we sing “Zipadeedoodah.” You remember to look for the sun on the way to school and say every morning, “Isn’t the sky pretty?”

I have been getting very emotionally lately (it might have something to do with the fact that I am 8 months pregnant). Our lives are going to be changed a lot soon – never to be the same again. I find myself missing you more and wanting to spend more time with you because it will be a lot harder when the new baby comes. I also find myself thinking completely irrational things like how I won’t be able to handle when you go away to college.



One night I was going out with my friend Ericka for dinner, so Daddy had to put you to bed – something that has become my “normal” job. Which, of course, I don’t mind. As he was drying you off from your bath, he said you put your chin down and made a sad face. “What’s wrong Abe?” Daddy asked. “I sad,” you said. “I want Mama to put me to bed.”

Well, when your Daddy told me this it just broke my heart into two and made me never want to miss putting you to bed again. If that was your intent -- well played little man! I never knew that it even mattered to you who put you to bed, and it made me feel very good inside. However, because I am pregnant and crazy hormonal it also makes me want to burst into tears every time I think about it. Oh, well, you better get used to it.

Love,
Mama