One Week

One week. Just one more week until my littlest becomes a two year old and we enter into a whole new world of potty training, binky weaning, bed transitioning, and all the mischief that comes with the "Terrible Twos" category. While this is not a completely new territory that I find myself in (C is my second child after all) , I am going into this as blind as I was before because everything is different. C is different. Where I had head banging and screaming with D, I have arms cross, "I quits" and "No's" from C. Where I had absolutely no interest, and no cues from D when it came to potty training, I have a strip down if he's not wearing shorts (or even if he is) and "Potty!" from C. Where I had a shaky walker and non-climber with D, I have a sprinter and fearless climber with C.

Fearless is the best word to describe C these days.

I should be sad that he's not my baby anymore. I should be sad that the "Mom, help's!" and the snuggles have been replaced by a little boy who can expertly disrobe at the first sign of a bath and a "No!" when I try to cuddle with him before bedtime. I should be sad that I am no longer required when it comes to putting on a movie or helping him into his highchair.

But I'm not.

I'm proud. I'm proud that I'm littlest has grown so much that I'm not his first go-to person to make things happen. Instead, I can sit on the sideline and offer my assistance as needed. Now, I can take a backseat and just watch him soar.

It feels like two weeks ago that I was sitting in my apartment, praying that C would come on his own so that I wouldn't have to be induced. I wouldn't wish an induction on anyone. But my boy was cozy and had no intentions of coming out on his own three weeks early. I'm so sad that my body couldn't hold out and let him have that extra time, but I think C knows that I didn't evict him willingly. It's why I call him Buggy. It's short for Cuddlebug, and C has been my Cuddlebug since day one.

It feels like yesterday that I was celebrating C's first birthday. I wanted everything to be perfect, and while the party didn't turn out exactly how I thought it would, it was still a great day. Especially seeing how happy you were with the attention you were receiving. Not to mention your cake. Against my better judgement, I let you eat your entire smash cake. With a little help from your brother. And a cousin or two. You were well on your way to walking and sure enough, one month later you decided that crawling was for babies and you were ready for the big kid's group.

Now here we are, getting ready to celebrate your second year in our family. I'm sorry I might not be able to give you everything you deserve this year, but I know you'll have fun anyway.

I love you my Buggy! 

(Nana and I think it may be time to upgrade your nickname to Fearless. What do you think?)