Today is Reid's second birthday. It signifies momentous occasions in his life, which have been slowly piling up here in the blog inbox.
Reid has been using the potty quite impressively lately. Even amid his second birthday party (reported earlier), Reid stopped to announce to no-one in particular that he had to go potty. Uncle Steve overheard and alerted a grandparent, who then passed the message on to us. Everyone was overjoyed. Reid was, understandably, relieved.
In two years, Reid has become an amazing talking machine. He now routinely constructs sentences in which even people who don't live with him can discern meaning. He roams our house on weekend mornings when it is clear we won't be rushing around to get out of the house at a decent hour and comments idly on the things concerning him, resting his hand on whatever kid-height thing is around, maybe pulling all the pillows off the couch and asking about the Wiggles. His chatter is not the continuous babble of the uncomprehending toddler, but rather thoughtful composed babble, seemingly intended to respond to stimuli in his environment. Or at least to respond to the need to make sounds like an airplane and a lion.
Another interesting innovation of Reid's recent life is a game we have come to call 'Where's Reid?' Reid will hide himself, rudimentarily and poorly, and then sit perfectly still, at least by any measure of toddlerhood. For instance, he will shove his head under the couch's front flap and lay still for a moment, until we notice he's there and ask, 'where's Reid?' And the fun begins!
Sometimes this goes on for minutes. We will say amusing things like 'I just saw him here a second ago,' and 'this strange thing under the couch feels a little like Reid's bum.' We will carry on like fools looking for Reid until one or both of us can bear it no longer and 'finds' him. He giggles hysterically, making it all worthwhile.
Reid's life at two is approaching a major new step. Starting Monday, he will attend a new school where he and four other kids will be students in Ms. Maria's class. Reid's current perch in homecare will be hard to leave behind, as he really loves Ita and Juana. But there are a lot of little problems that pile up from a parenting perspective at the homecare (television, hitting, over-dependence on juice,
chocolata con leche, et cetera). This homecare, so near to our house and such a very loving and warm atmosphere, has been a godsend, to be sure, but the problems cause repercussions for us, so we've decided to go for a slightly more structured situation.
More than anything, though, this amazing landmark for Reid is just a mindboggling thing. He's lived through a leap year, so today is Reid's seven-hundred and thirty-first day on earth. At one-thirty-five in the afternoon on this very day, he gasped his first breath of air and shouted out to us all that he was in it for the long haul. We have heard that wail many times since, and I wouldn't trade it for the world.
Happy birthday, son. Your mom and I, and all our family love you very much and celebrate your wonderful little life on this and every day. You've made us so proud just be being your curious, intelligent, smiling, thoughtful self, that we know we're the luckiest people on earth, and we can't wait for everything else that's yet to come.
