Two Years Old

Dear Rami,
Two nights before your second birthday, amidst the chaos of bedtime, you bounded up to me, grinning, with a copy of Where the Wild Things Are, did an about-face, and plopped down in my lap. You shimmied your bottom so as to settle into the best snuggle possible. You were so proud of the words you knew, jabbing your pudgy little finger at the page and shouting the words you knew -  "moon!" "boat!" "teeth!" - and then whipping your head around to flash a grin and check to make sure my face showed the appropriate pride.

You were so content to press your little cheek against mine, until the last few pages of the story, when you would spring up to grab another book. You knew that bedtime usually warrants just one story, but thought that if you were holding a new book in hand and looking up at me expectantly, I wouldn't be able to refuse.  

You were right. In this manner we passed about fifteen minutes of solid story-reading, just you and I, while everyone else's bedtime business was whirring around us. As we moved through Goodnight Moon, your little hand clasped mine and your thumb rubbed circles on the back of my hand. And, once again (for this happens so very often), I fell head-over-heels in love with you.

By the time we'd read halfway through How Do Dinosaurs Say Goodnight? your sister had been laid down and your brother and Abba had caught on to what a fabulous rime we were having. Asher squeezed onto my lap next to you and our special quiet storytime bubble was broken, but that feeling of just-us-ness lingered all night.

If any one thing can be said about you, it is that your personality is strong.  Your behavior and moods are still just as intense as they were a year ago, and they are predictably so.  It is still true that you are quick to passionate anger when you don't get what you want or think you deserve.


But far, far overshadowing your angry outbursts is that ever since you were a very little baby, you have not hesitated to show affection.  That signature smirk of contentedness can still be sighted in the two-year-old Rami, typically during a TV-watching snuggle with Ima. The intensity of your affection has taken on yet more endearing features, however - my heart swells when you place your chubby hands on my cheeks, lean your forehead against mine, bat your eyelashes for a full second of eye contact, and pucker up for a kiss.  This happens at obvious moments, such as after a fall, but most often for no particular reason at all.

Following closely in second place is your signature "recharge" embrace, where your head lolls on the shoulder, a slight smile creeps upon your face, and your hand absentmindedly strokes the back.  One of your first words was "hug," and one of the first directions you consistently followed was, without fuss or hesitation, "kiss!"  Your weekend and lazy-day snuggle fests are legendary.  You are what many would call "a schmoozer."  To me, your sweet moments are one hundred percent sincere and joyful - you are just my loving RamRam.






The happy moments take on the same intensity, with even more exuberance.  Something as simple asfeeding the goats at the farm, stealing a freshly-baked cookie, picking the finest autumn leaves to show to me, or braiding up our Friday challahs fills you with so much delight that one can't help but giggle right along with you.  Your ability to find absolute pleasure in the simplest of things is the one trait that I most fervently pray will carry you through your entire life.






Last night, on the eve of your birthday, we read another story together, just you and I. As we flipped through the customary birthday-eve book in our house, On the Night You Were Born, you loudly announced, "moon!" every time you saw it on the page, and let forth a big rolling belly laugh when I made the frog croak your name.

Since you are only two years old, you didn't understand why tears filled my eyes as I read lines like,
 

"The sound of your name is a magical one."

"You are a miracle."  and 

"You are the one and only ever you." 
but you turned to look at me, patted my back, and gave me a comforting kiss anyway.  

How can I express how deeply and distinctly true those words are to me about you? You see, my dear one, I will never forget how, two and a half years ago, your very existence brought life back to me once again.  (And it doesn't hurt that you look more and more like your Abba every day!)

Happy Birthday, my sweet baby boy.

Love,
Ima