For Elias, on the Occasion of Your Second Birthday

Dear Elias, On Friday you are two! and I still can't believe it. In my head, you still look like this:

I don't remember your entry into the world as clearly as I remember your brother's. There was a lot of confusion, a lot of commotion. I do remember them wheeling me up to the special care nursery in the hospital bed, and I remember seeing you in the incubator.

I remember being out of my mind with worry on the way up to the nursery, until I spotted your gigantic, 9 1/2 pound self up there in special care with all the teeny tiny preemie babies and suddenly feeling better. Just look at you - I remember your dad and I laughing at how incongruous you seemed in that sea of tiny babies. I remember them bringing you down to me later in my room and saying you were going to be fine, and thinking "I already knew that". Besides that, it's a blur, but I can tell you your dad and I were so glad to finally meet you. you were an exceedingly laid back baby, which is hilarious because your pugnacious, extremely spirited 2 year old self has nothing in common with that baby. You used to just hang out and watch the world go by. At the time, I thought it was because you were just a mellow little spirit. Now I think you were just carefully observing your brother and taking notes on how to be a whirling dervish. Either way, you were chubby, charming, and deliciously cuddly.

This is you on your first birthday. You were adorable, but you weren't too sure about that cake. I'm fuzzy on the specifics, but I'm pretty sure you could walk but couldn't talk at 1, but you definitely already had a sense of humor.

You are a very funny guy, and we all appreciate it. Today, you told one of your best jokes. It goes like this: Eli: "Go seep?" Mom: "you want to go to sleep?" Eli: "yeah." (climbs onto the radiator and pretends to snore) "Eli seep on the radi-aty!" Mom: "no! boys don't sleep on the radiator!" Eli: Hysterical laughter. Hmm. maybe you have to be there. In any case, your brother and I think you're funny. Speaking of brother, I do know that brother was your first word - no wait, it was duck. Brother was your second word. No matter, it's still adorable. You and Owen will likely become mortal enemies at some point in the future, which is why I feel the need to point out that now, you are the best of friends.

I am frequently thankful that both you and your brother are boys, because as such you will likely care less than if you were girls that I have done absolutely no keeping-of-a-baby book for either of you. Many mothers (better mothers than I, I'm sure) carefully document each step, achievement and milestone, but I never got around to it, and now it's too late. So you'll have to accept this blog as good enough, and know that even though I have no idea how old you were when you got your first tooth, took your first step, or said your first word, I still love you immensely. You're the funniest marginally-intelligible guy I know. Much Love, Mom