Enthusiastically two

You'd think I'd be used to it by now. But every time one of these kids has a birthday, it seems to catch me off guard. I can remember the first time I laid eyes on Caleb's spiky little head like it was yesterday. I remember being shocked by the full head of dark black hair he was born with (which I later came to realize made him look like he was wearing a toupee, and promptly buzzed it off). I remember those chubby cheeks, thighs, and belly that I just couldn't get enough of. Two years later, he's still pretty squishy, but the kid's solid as a rock underneath. He's built like a linebacker, complete with built-in padding. I remember how quiet and blue he was when the doctor held him up for me to see for the first time. Today, his big rosy cheeks are a delight to kiss, and his non-stop chatter well makes up for those first few moments of silence.

When we found out we were pregnant for the second time, I immediately knew that I wanted a boy. I love my little girl, but I was looking forward to the special kinds of fun that boys bring to a family. And all the messes, the crashes, the trucks, the noise... all the boy things I hoped to enjoy, Caleb has proven more than capable of making happen.

We spent his second birthday doing all the things he loves. We ate cheese grits for breakfast, we colored, we looked at pictures of sharks, we drove trucks, he enjoyed some dedicated Daddy-time while I took the other two out for a while, we dined on burritos at Moe's (the birthday boy arrived in his superman costume) and ate chocolate cake for lunch before crashing at naptime. After naps, we played more, colored more, and then set out a big blanket on the floor and had a picnic dinner (pepperoni, olives, and pineapple pizza...Caleb's special request). Every time someone sang Happy Birthday to him, Caleb ran to the kitchen table and climbed in his chair asking, "Time to eat birthday cake now?" It was a very full, very fun day, and Caleb seemed to enjoy every minute of it.

He's turned into quite a guy's guy in his two years outside the womb. He has a special bond with his Papa and his Granddaddy that nothing can interfere with. He loves his grandfathers, and words will never do justice to just how much he adores them. In Caleb's eyes, the men in his life can do no wrong, and he never tires of hanging out with Daddy or his grandfathers and just being one of the guys. They command his authority in a way I never have, and probably never will. And the feeling is mutual. Justin has already decided that his next car will be a big truck, and I'm certain one of the primary reasons for this is that Caleb would love it. He talks often of the days when he'll take the boys fishing and hiking. And I know both my dad and Justin's are looking forward to the day when their eldest grandson is finally old enough to be a hunting buddy.

But with the way he can't stop talking now, Caleb's hunting days may be a while off. At some point in the last two months or so, something clicked, and Caleb's vocabulary has shot through the roof. There are only two occasions during which Caleb is quiet: when he's building something (and not having to stave off his sister's interference) and when he's asleep. He greets us each morning with the phrase "I need to get up now" and proceeds to narrate, question, answer, exclaim, sing, and repeat for the remainder of the day. We read a book recently in which one of the characters was asked if he going mad, as in crazy. Caleb now loves to ask "Are you mad?" with a huge smile on his face anytime he sees someone looking angry or upset. He can say the blessing at mealtimes (if Abby will let him) and loves to sing along with the old hymns that are on repeat in the van (Up From the Grave He Arose is his favorite). As I write this, he is currently singing himself to sleep in his room. I can hear the last strains of Happy Birthday to Me beginning to fade into sweet dreams.

I'm fairly certain my two-year-old has aspirations of being the class clown one day. Caleb knows all his colors, but when pressed to name them, he insists that they are all yellow. A few weeks ago they were all pink. If you correct him, he merely flashes that adorable little grin at you as if to say, "I know it's not yellow mom, but aren't I hilarious?" He can count to sixteen (a product of being corralled into one too many games of hide-and-seek with his sister) but purposefully leaves out the number 13 because, for some reason, it drives Abby absolutely nuts, and he knows this. ("...Eleven..twelve..." [pause, then loudly] "FOURTEEN! FIFTEEN! SIXTEEN!") He has an infectious laugh that can go from pure delight (when he's being tickled) to sinister cackling (when he's trying to frame his sister for some wrong doing). I've learned to tune in to the varying degrees of his laughter and can usually gauge pretty accurately when intervention is necessary based on his pitch and volume.

But perhaps my favorite thing about Caleb at age two (besides, of course, the fact that he's mine) is his enthusiasm for life. When he's doing something, he's truly giving it his all. This has resulted in a number of injuries on his part, but it also gives him an edge in the learning department. He wants to explore, experiment, and figure things out for himself. He wants to know how things work and why. He wants to know what's behind, under, and after things. He investigates and questions every noise and every new sight that he encounters in our home and outside. He has the patience to stick with it until he succeeds in solving a problem, building a tower, or putting his shoes on. And when he can't do it himself, he easily asks for help. I'm convinced more than ever that these traits are a product of nature, not nurture, since in this regard Caleb could not be more different from his sister.

He still loves being around people just as much as he always has. He enjoys his sister's company and spends most of his waking hours playing with or alongside her, participating in the games she makes up for the two of them, and scheming for ways to slowly drive me insane. He wants to help with or at least watch whatever I'm doing, from folding laundry (he's a great loader/unloader) to making dinner to checking my email. He's impatient for Jacob to get bigger so that he'll have another buddy to play trucks and trains with. I keep reminding him that Jacob's still a baby and can't play with him yet, so for now Caleb settles for bringing his little brother soft toys and shaking them at him or piling them on top of him.

Caleb still has no interest in learning his alphabet, in spite of our weekly letter activities and frequent singing of the alphabet song. He knows the song, and recognizes that letters are letters, but he couldn't care less which letters are which. The one exception is his name, which he recognizes on his back pack, sippy cups and anywhere else he sees it written down. But he insists on identifying it his own way, the same way, every time: "That's A-C-B Cay-yub!" This drives his sister crazy, which, come to think of it, might just be the reason he does it.

Before he went to bed tonight, I prayed for my little guy as I have every night since he was born. Today, my prayer is that Caleb's exuberance will always be a joy to those around him as it is to his mom and dad, and that his enthusiasm for learning will grow into a hunger for the word of God. It's hard not to be a little sad when I think of how quickly these children are growing up. But I can't wait to see the man that he'll become.

Happy birthday to my shark-loving, truck-driving, train-building, noisy, silly two-year-old. I love you, Caleb. These past two years with you have been incredible, and I hope you will always know that my life is better with you in it.