Ian turns 2 next month, which is something I simply can’t believe. I know when the time comes, I’ll be thinking more and more about the little boy he’s turning into. A few months after that, his little brother will make his arrival into the world and into our family.
But RIGHT NOW? Right now, Ian is so fun and funny and sweet. He is changing and learning and blowing me away every single day, and there is so much about this time I don’t want to forget.
I want to remember the way your voice sounds when you say, “Hi, Mama” when I come into your room in the morning.
I want to remember how every day, your dad and I are required to say “Good morning” and “good night” to all your favorite stuffed animals (a blue polka-dotted monkey and Yale bulldog).
I want to remember how you call your blankets “good night.”
I want to remember how when your Gram was visiting us, you were suddenly inspired to try lots of new foods: kiwi, scrambled eggs, pancakes, guacamole.
I want to remember the first little joke you told. I taught you the “Orange…Blue!” chant from Gator Games. We were doing it together one morning: I said “Orange,” and you looked at me with the funniest, most mischievous little smile, and suddenly yelled, “Green!” Then you and I both fell down on the floor laughing hysterically.
I want to remember how exciting it is that you are learning all your colors, and love to point them out: blue, red, green, orange, yellow, black, and white.
I want to remember that when Grandma Shannon sent you a gift, you had no interest in unwrapping it until you saw a car printed on the package. “I want car!” you exclaimed, and started to tear the paper off.
I want to remember how you love to point out “Mama, Dada, Ian!” in family photos.
I want to remember how I need to be strategic when I plan outside playtime, because once we’re out there, it’s very hard to get you back inside.
I want to remember that you call animals by the sound they make: woof woof, ooh ooh agh agh, roar.
I want to remember how you lean into the phone and computer to give kisses when we are Facetiming with your grandparents.
I want to remember that you think it’s hilarious to answer questions incorrectly and then exclaim, “No!”
I want to remember how much you love Pete the Cat books, despite how much the repetition drives your dad and I crazy after awhile.
I want to remember the way you yell “House!” whenever we turn onto our street, and how you start saying, “Dada! Dada?” when we drive by your dad’s work to pick him up.
I want to remember how you immediately start heading a few doors down when I ask, “Want to go play at Sophie’s house?”
I want to remember how you will say hi to squirrels, ants, and lamps, but not to people who say hello to you.
I want to remember watching fireworks on July 4th. You were a bit afraid of the loud noise, but you kept whispering the colors of the fireworks in my ear.
I want to remember that “I want moon, moon, moon,” means you want to listen to a Laurie Berkner song, but it’s usually not actually “Moon, Moon, Moon.” “Pig on Her Head” is your favorite right now.
I want to remember how when we first started attending story time at the library, you wouldn’t participate at all, but you are slowly warming up to it.
I want to remember the way your sweet voice sounds when you say, “No thank you,” and how funny it is when you sometimes say, “No please.”
I want to remember YOU: chubby and energetic, sweet and stubborn, full of ideas and plans.