Mr. Baby No More

So when we decided to go ahead and have another baby . . . even though we'd just gotten each of the first three in school . . . even though we were old(er) and tired(er) . . . even though we'd started to enjoy sleeping in on Saturday and car seatless road trips and spontaneous family outings to the movie theater, we told ourselves this:

It will go by so fast. And this time, at least, we'll be wise enough to enjoy it. (Mostly). And we were right. Can you believe it's been two years since this guy made his appearance?





There were screaming fits (his, not ours . . . remember how I said we'd matured??) and sleepless nights, for sure (see here and here for proof). But wouldn't you know it? The blue-haired ladies at church are right: life speeds by pretty quick and if you forget to enjoy it--whoops!--it's all gone. To me, the definition of joy is having the wisdom to stop, really look, and see the goodness all around you before it disappears. And having Wyatt in our lives has been a true joy.

This week, he turned two. Here he is, in all his beautiful blondness, on the very day of his birth:





He loves dinosaurs, giraffes and trucks. He used to love Little Einsteins, but this week he made a quick 180, moved on, and now demands Caillou. (I know! The WASPiest, whiniest, liberal elitiest show on PBS . . . and that's saying something.) He loves salsa ("Salsa and Hops!" he says, meaning chips, of course), chocolate milk (addict) and cookies. He eats chili better than any of his siblings. He loves his blue blanket ("warm beebee") and goes to nursery and childcare at the gym with nary a complaint. He loves his Dad best of all (sniff) but I'm in second place, followed closely by Grandma Sweat and his cousin Eli, whom he's at constant pains to impress. When he went to the pediatrician for his 2 year check up, he jumped and jumped and said "Jump! Jump!" for the pediatrician, without being asked. How did Wyatt know jumping was on that doctor's questionnaire? Baby genius? Clairvoyance? He loves to read books, he takes a good nap everyday (praise be), and a couple of days ago, he told his first joke. "Pee pee!" he said to Jonas. "Poo poo!" Then he laughed hysterically.

We couldn't ask for a better boy.

Now here are some pictures from his birthday bash. Family only, since one of the things I've learned in my mature motherhood is that two year olds don't need friend parties. (Friend parties, music classes, flash cards, fortified baby cereals and/or special parenting methods gleaned from special parenting books. All unnecessary. Oh, and toddler beds. Don't let anyone talk you into a toddler bed.)









Mr. Toddler doesn't have quite the same ring a Mr. Baby did. But you can be our Mr. Man, our Mr. Dean, our Wy-Wy, our Wy-dog, our Super-Wy. We love you!