My Little Man, 2

As in, my little man is turning two, and as in, My Little Man II - this is the second post with that title. (You can read the first one here.) And, in another similarity - I'm looking forward to posting a Happy Birthday picture on his special day, so I'm doing my 'soggy' posting now. :)

Ben's second year has been an absolute whirlwind. Shortly after I wrote My Little Man, the first, I found out I was pregnant with My Second Little Man. :) The next few months were admittedly a blur. Nausea and extreme fatigue make for excellent memory loss (and that's probably a good thing).

Some things have changed significantly: as of Ben's first birthday, he wasn't walking. Now he walks, runs, climbs, jumps, dances... you get the idea. He wasn't talking, either. MAYbe a Da-da or Ma-ma here and there, but now I get things like, "Mommy, need two moneys." Or, when asked what he wants for lunch, "Try something different, please." And he has grown by leaps and bounds! I mourn this past year not because I want to go back, but because it flew by. When I look back, I didn't treasure every second like I wish I could have.

I love that boy so much it hurts.

Ben cried when I put him to bed tonight. I don't know why. He just didn't want me to go, and he made that perfectly clear. I said, "Tell me what you want, Ben. Stop crying so you can tell me what you want." And he said through shuddery sobs, "Want Mommy pick you up, Mommy. Want Mommy pick you up!" It broke my heart. And so did the gigantic (crocodile) tears. He is so tender.

We have a bond, my little Ben and me. We've spent a lot of time together. And because I interact with him constantly, I can understand his little Ben-isms better than probably anyone else. It's no secret that he prefers me to pretty much everyone else, and although that sometimes hurts feelings, you can understand why when you think about how our lives are intertwined. When he was born, my life changed. It probably changed before that, actually. But he entered the world a needy little person, and I was the one appointed to take care of him. We struggled. I cried. We struggled some more. I cried some more. But we battled, fought hard, and developed a great nursing relationship, and a strong bond. I love him more than I could type.

Happy Birthday, my precious, wonderful, blessed, firstborn son. You have my heart forever!