I contemplated how to even start this little letter to you. I don’t often just call you Brecken, and I only use both of your middle names if you’re in Big Trouble Mister, so most of the time, you’re Brecken Jace.
I take that back, most of the time, you’re Bubba, or Peanut, Munchkin, or Lovebug. However Sugar Boogers also slips out sometime (what? I promise by the time you’re old enough to read this I’ll have stopped calling you that).
Anyway. Today, my love, (at the time this post is published, 1:06pm) you’re two years old. That’s 720 mornings you’ve woken up (some earlier than others) ready to face the day. 104 weeks (Wednesdays to be specific) that I’ve noted another week passed since you came flying into our lives. 24 months we’ve celebrated the “4th” as another notch in your age. And now my sweet boy, I’ll have to stop with the month counting and just go in simpler terms, 2. years. old.
The other day you counted to seven. A feat I didn’t even know you could accomplish, because up until that point you got a little hung up on that pesky number 1. But yet there we were, descending the steps at school and you were counting as you went. It’s like this a lot lately – you’re completely catching us off guard with new things. But not until you’re absolutely ready – we can push and push you to tell us the next letter or guess the color, but you simply won’t until the time is right. You have a bit of your mom and dad in you, a fierce stubborn and independent streak that will serve you well in life. And make your parents much more patient.
You’re growing by the minute it seems, in every way possible. You are all-boy with your love of Thomas, and Mickey “Maush”, and trucks, “airpwanes”, and “molarcycles”. You can spot a Jeep Wrangler a mile away (“JEEEEEEP! JEEEEEP!”), and you get! so! excited! when we pass a city bus.
You can be rough and tumble, but you have the sweetest heart. You love giving hugs, your compassion is (literally) overwhelming sometimes to your friends at school. Momma always takes hugs though, don’t stop giving them. My most favorite moments with you right now are when you’re playing with your toys or watching Mickey Maush and you have this virtual wave of love come over you. You drop whatever you’re doing and come over for a quick squeeze and a smooch. If you’ve snuck into our bed and you’re waking up with us in the morning, your waves of love are abundant and the squeezes unending. I wish I could bottle up your innocence and love and give it away. The world would be happier.
Your third year of life is promising to be a big one. Your little brother (“Dude Widdum” as you call him) is scheduled to arrive in a mere 3 months, and I can’t wait to see your love for him in action. You will be the *best* big brother, I am completely sure of that much. And while he might be the new baby, you will always be my first baby, you made me a mom. I have no idea what I ever did to deserve to have you in my life, and I am thankful for you every moment of every day.
I love you to the moon and back,