Happy Birthday Bab-E Brother

Dear Bab-E Brother,

We're about to celebrate your 2nd birthday! And while the "terrible 2's" are officially upon us you've been hurling stuff from the dinner table for a while now the past 2 years have been anything but terrible.

Many people say that you look more like me than either of your brothers good luck with that, although at least in pictures your hair has a reddish tint. Coupled with your blue eyes, neither Mom-E nor I are sure where your good looks came from. It also looks like you have a better than average shot at being left-handed, which will please Big Brother to no end. Recessive traits, we guess.

You bring unsurpassed joy and wonder to our lives (albeit equal to Big Brother and Little Brother). And that's been the theme this past year. We have 3 boys now, not 2 boys and a baby boy. We might as well go ahead and buy 3 of EVERYTHING!

And man are Mom-E and I tired. I think this year has been even bus-e-er than last.

You've mastered walking and running this year, and Mom-E and I have been chasing small men like decapitated chickens ever since. (By the way, we LOVE your little run - one arm at your side while the other swings madly as you pound those feet along.) More "running hugs", please.

Despite the many highlights of the past year - your shoe-throwing, voice-immodulating, chants of "Pupp-E Guy" among my favorites - perhaps my favorite highlight in recent weeks has been the explosion in your vocabulary.

The excitement of Christmas helped you learn "open" and "track (track-a)" and "build", and while Santa does say "Ho Ho Ho!" he also says "Santa cookies!"

I guess it must be all of the playing with (and lining up of) trains and race cars (which you would play with for hours on end, even if left alone in the dark), and this cute little way you have of pointing at something and saying "what's my name?", but you're picking up names and words left and right. "Percy. Henry. Emily. Duck. James. Cranky." Oh, and "blue Thomas choo-choo."

And "bag". We can't go anywhere now without you requesting to load up a bag with your favorite trains and cars. Pardon me, while I experience some "Car Bag" deja-vu.

"Trains and Race cars" are to "Inside" as "Bikes" (specifically a Lightning McQueen tricycle you 'claimed' as your own) are to "Outside". Again, if left to your own devices, you would ride that bike all day and night.

Oh, and by the way, you're a daredevil. I hope I'm wrong, but according to Las Vegas, you're the odds-on favorite amongst your siblings to break a bone during childhood. You were an easy pick, as evidence by standing up and jumping on your booster seat, head-first dives on the kitchen table, and coasting backwards on the tricycle down a decline while exclaiming "whee".

You're a sweet loving boy, Bab-E Brother. Big Brother and Little Brother adore you, and you certainly look up to them. (Most) mornings you pop up out of your crib with a happiness and zest for life that's contagious. I'll admit that I love it when you cling to me (I'm sure Mom-E feels the same), and I certainly love your tired whispers of "nite-nite" (aka stop holding me and put me to bed).

No doubt it will be an exciting year with many new milestones. Thank you for being you, and thank you for all of the love that you bring to our famil-e.

I love you,
Dad-E