We've had a crazy busy weekend celebrating this little boy's second birthday! He turned two on Saturday and we spent the entire day following his every whim. He is now one bossy kid, let me tell you! All the gifts and catering to Seth totally went to his head and now he thinks he runs the show.
Which he kind of does, actually.
Dear Seth,
Well, you're officially two! You've been acting two for a while...being bossy, throwing two year old tantrums, screeching like a barn owl when things don't go your way. But you're finally really two. You're a tall, solid boy, big for your age, but that doesn't stop you from insisting I carry you all over the place and hanging off my legs. You're just a little attached. You are the sweetest kid in the entire world and you give the absolute best hugs and kisses, too.
We went to pick up some new ear molds for your cochlear implants the other day, and we saw the Audiologist who did your initial ABR test, the one where we found out you could hear. She was an intern then, just starting out, and you were her very first profound kid. It was so cool to catch up with her and let her see how well you're doing. It was kind of emotional for me, thinking back to those days when I had no idea where you and I would end up, whether you'd ever call me Mama or hear me tell you I loved you. Two years ago, you were one sick kid, not even breathing on your own.
And now...two years later, we have come so far sometimes I can't even believe it. You're happy, healthy, and you have been a bigger blessing to all of our lives than I could have ever imagined. You have blessed us beyond measure. Your older sister told me the other day that she didn't know what she'd do without you, and neither do I!
You're funny, silly, and incredibly strong willed. You will fight to the death to get a sip of my soda or other junk food. You don't let your brother and sister push you around, either. You stand up for yourself and you get your point across remarkably well, with words or without.
Most doctors say that preemies catch up by the age of two. That hasn't been the case for you...you're still in several therapies with no end in sight. I won't say it wasn't frustrating to adjust to therapy long term. For a long time I thought you'd have graduated from all of your therapy by now, but that's just not the case for you. You have something called ataxia...your gross motor muscles just don't always cooperate with you, but you're learning to compensate for those issues every day and you don't let it slow you down for a second. You run, climb, play, and the fact that you fall more often than other kids doesn't seem to phase you at all.
Your hearing, though, is remarkable. You amaze me with what you hear and understand, and you frustrate me mightily with your stubborn attitude about just who you will deign to speak to. You're shy, reserved, and you don't perform for anyone. If left to your own devices, though, you'll talk up a storm...if you're in the mood. You don't make anything easy, but it's always worth it. Hearing you call my name or say "Thank You" when I hand you a glass of milk still amazes me. Watching you drop everything and break into joyful dancing when music comes on is the best thing ever.
Your therapies and hearing and speech and physical issues are nothing, though. I mean, it's miraculous to me that you can hear, but it's even more miraculous to me that you're here, that you're my son, that I have the privilege of watching you grow up with your brother and sisters each and every day. Your older brother didn't get this chance, and I'll never forget how blessed I am to wake up every morning to you shouting my name and shaking your crib back and forth, putting dents in the wall we painted so carefully. When I pick you up in the morning, you lay your head on my shoulder and you pat my back with your hand, and it's one of the best parts of my day.
I'm so proud that you're my happy, joyful, cheerful, loving, demanding, clingy, stubborn, strong willed, adorable, feisty, cuddly, beach bum of a little boy. I love you more than words could ever say.
I love you, Seth B.
