I completely missed your twenty-nine month letter. And then last week I sorta missed your thirty month letter. See, at first I was so wrapped up in your sister's sixth birthday that I forgot to post to you. This makes me sad, mostly because I know that it's going to be a fact of life for you, living in your sister's shadow, and that as the youngest child you'll occasionally be left behind. The thing is though, I believe you're already accustomed to it.
You constantly run behind Julianna. You jump up on the hearth right after she jumps down and runs off. You fly through the kitchen to the back door just as she takes off out into the yard. You scramble to get your shoes off and meet your sister in the living room after school anxiously straining to see what she's already gotten into. And perhaps the cutest thing you do is lengthen your neck at least two inches to try to see whatever she's looking at out the car window so that you don't miss out of the action outside.
Then last week I sat down to finish this letter and I just got so frustrated with the way you'd been behaving lately that I didn't want to force myself to think of nice things to say about you. So I just didn't do it. I was single-parenting for three nights in a row that week and you were unbearable. You're just a typical 2.5 year old boy, but sometimes I just want to strangle you. Then you bit your sister's thigh and the resulting mark is still there almost two weeks later so that should indicate how hard you chomped down. It wasn't very nice to say the least, and when you act that way very few of us want to be around you.
Despite all this, it still amazes me how quickly time is going by and how much you're learning every day. You can completely go to the bathroom all by yourself now and even though we still help you most of the time, it's nice to know that you can do it. You've actually demonstrated more responsibility this month in that you run in from the garage every day and put your jacket and shoes up right where they belong. You learned how to correctly pronounce your sister's name this month and it makes me incredibly sad even though I knew the day would come eventually. You recognize all kinds of buildings (pointing out "the ham store" where we got our Christmas ham still every day 4 months later) and you already know the way to some of the places we go regularly. Also, you can do puzzles in a couple of seconds on my phone and you say the Lord's prayer every day.
Things I want to remember from this thirtieth month include the fact that you sleep with your blanket directly on top of your face, you still can't seem to grown long enough legs to wear 2T pants or really ride the tricycle, your giggle is infectious, and how you're still so very tactile. You rub my skin when we're sitting together on the couch, you paw at my shirt when I'm carrying you, you love to rub the satin edge on your BaBa (which is called blanket now instead). I also wish I could record your excitement when I give you something that you're looking forward to like chocolate milk and you exclaim, "Oh! Thanks, Mom!"
Josh, you're a sweetheart and a booger. You both aggravate me and make me beam with pride. I love you to no end. Yesterday in the car you asked me why daddy and I had babies; you wanted to know why we had a Joshua and a Jules (your words). It was such a powerful question for a two year old. The best, most simple answer I could give was that we love you.
Yes we do, Buddy. We love you.
Love,
Mama
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