Two Years

Troy turned 2 on the 8th, and I can't collect all of my feelings of excitement for his growing abilities, wonder at his blossoming personality, relief that his rocky health and development history seems to be past, joy over the bright ray of sunshine he brings wherever he goes, and overwhelming idolatrous love for him into words, so I'll just leave you to use your imagination.

Troy really is that little boy that everyone adores. I am familiar with this character because I had one as a brother myself - my youngest brother - all you family members reading may try to deny it, but come on, he was a favorite. He was just so charming and cute and so darn funny that everyone fell at his feet. I must say I did not expect this at all when I knew I was expecting a boy. I loved my girls more than life itself (still do, to clarify), and I thought nothing could surpass the wonderful flowery ruffly girlishness of girls. Boys, well, they're kind of loud and sticky and muddy and like to make swords out of everything. Right? I think I have told you before how vastly corrected I stand. Who knew the powerful effect a little boy has over his mother? In fact, I finally began to understand what a sacrifice my mother-in-law made giving her son up to me - the first of several darling little boys she had to give away to an obnoxious naive gum-chewing twenty-something girl who had no idea that it was a sacrifice at all for his mother to part with her role as the only important woman in his life. Heaven help me when that day comes for me. I only pray I can handle parting with Troy with the same amount of grace.

So, back to this little boy who is, in fact, just two years old. His asthma has disappeared completely for about a year now and he finally learned to walk! In fact, to see him run and jump and kick his little soccer ball and walk up and down stairs, you'd be surprised to know he's only been on his feet for just over four months! He likes to communicate expressly by talking, never mind that he doesn't have a vocabulary large enough for him to reasonably give up gestures or sign language to help me along. He just says whatever it is he is trying to say and waits for me to reason it out. His favorite things are dogs, airplanes, trains, ice cream, and princesses (sorry, I can't do anything about his sisters' influence).

Oh, and this is what he looks like when you tell him to smile.

 HA! My favorite thing

On his birthday, we had a couple friends over for dinner and cake, and we decorated with a "Cars" theme.

Here's the same smile-on-cue before candle-blowing...

REMEMBER: For me, the uglier the cake, the more delicious. And vice versa.

I think I ate half of that thing by myself.

And he no resignation about doing this, no matter that everyone was watching...