HAPPY BIRTHDAY
If you ask him, he'll tell you he's three. Oh, he says 'two' just fine - as well as just about every other word. I guess he feels three years old - he's definitely created enough distasters in our home to equal three years.
Lucky for Tobin, he's got the happiest eyes. So descriptive, so thoughtful, so loving. Or as the nice lady at the grocery store observed to Kristen, "You can see the devil in those eyes." Wow, she only saw him for what, a few minutes? Either she reads people quite well, or it's more obvious than we realized. The latter I suppose.
Tobin, Happy Birthday kiddo. I can't believe you're 2 years old already. Seems like you were just small enough to fit into the crook of my arm, falling asleep and generally staying out of trouble. But you're much more fun now - mostly when you're not destroying our home. I don't exaggerate.
When I call your name, I get a "yeah?" as a response. I tell you, 'I love you,' and you respond with, "too." You're so thoughtful when someone isn't feeling well, or gets hurt. You immediately check on them and the worry in your face is genuine. You are so sweet and loving. I can't help but smile when I think about you.
Your face is so expressive. Defiance. Annoyance. Comedic. You let us know what you're thinking (whether we want to know or not), and let us know your stance on many things - especially when you don't like what we have to tell you. We'll ask you to stop doing something (like hitting the TV, your brother, the dog...) and you'll scrunch up your face shake your head, and yell, "NO!" When you know you've done something wrong, you run and hide. And you're getting really good at hiding too! You burrow into mommy's and my closet behind the hanging clothes. If I didn't know how predictable you were, it would be difficult to find you. In fact sometimes when you're not in any trouble, you're hiding back there getting into some...
You pick things up so quickly. I'm certain this is mostly because you've got an older brother who loves to teach you everything. You too tend to get along pretty well. It's a true pleasure to watch the two of you playing together nicely. 'Nicely' being the key word. Blane really does teach you everything, too - for better or for worse. The hitting, the throwing of objects big and small, the yelling. My gosh the yelling. When Blane knows he'll get in trouble for doing something he'll whisper instructions to you which he knows you'll carry out as a proxy for him.
It's funny how the two of you communicate too. Your language skills have come around sooner than Blane's, but you've had him to help you along at a faster pace. You still have some words that are little more than garbled sounds - but somehow or another Blane can translate for you. It's very interesting and cute. There are also times when you're not talkative (this isn't often AT ALL) and Blane makes decisions for you, "He Tobin, let me carry that hockey stick for you. It's too heavy for you. Take this rock instead." He's thoughtful like that, but you're catching on quickly.
I took you and Blane to an Avalanche game recently, and it was an experience. I don't know how much of the game you picked-up on, but it was a good time nonetheless. Since then however, every time a hockey game is on tv, you light up and exclaim, "GAME!" "Bane, Daddy, Me!" It made an impression on you I guess. I'm so glad. I love that I can take you to games with me, and that you apparently enjoy it on some level makes it that much more rewarding.
An absolute certainty is that you are a morning person. You make waking up a pleasant experience even when we don't want to be awake yet. You tend to sleep until around 8am when we can hear you knocking at your bedroom door, "Mama! Dada. Hey!" When I get up there to let you out, you're bundled in your covers with a smile bright enough to challenge the sun. "Hi!" It's got to be the best way I could start my days. You climb into my arms and hug me tight with a light kiss on my cheek. (Incidently, you still give a kiss when asked for a hug - I'm not sure if you know the difference or not, but it's ok with me.) The entire time I'm getting ready for work, you're laying in my bed next to mommy, just smiling at me - occassionally whispering things to me. I love it. I know mommy just wants to sleep a bit longer, but I love having you up with me in the mornings...as long as you're not trying to get into things in the kitchen or elsewhere in the house.
And get into things you do. It's really difficult to fathom the things you can reach. Top of the refrigerator? Not a problem. Tools in the garage? Not a problem. The disconnected hose that needs to be screwed on to the spigget and the handle that I've removed to keep you from turning on? NOT A PROBLEM. Most people child-proof their homes, move things out of reach, use locks, etc. With you it seems that we'd be better off just getting a large-dog sized kennel to keep you out of trouble. But I'm willing to bet the authorities would frown upon that idea - let them keep you in THEIR house for a couple days... Your mother chides me when I make suggestions like that of the kennel. But I know it's run through her mind a few times during the course of the many days she spends home with you and your brother. Trust me, she has.
Tobin, you're so anxious to grow up. You're already slipping into Blane's too-large roller blades and trying to skate around the house with them. You love to go swimming, and would try - have tried, actually - to jump into the pool without mommy, daddy, or water wings. At the rec center kiddie pool, it gently slopes down to a depth of about 3-4 feet. You just walk out until the water is over your head. You have no fear, and you don't want us to help either. It scares us, but makes me a little proud at the maniac that you clearly are.
As I type this, I just have a smile on my face that I can't get rid of. You make me so proud, so happy, so...full. I'm so blessed to have you as my son. You and your brother are so precious to me. While you may very well be the reason that your mother and I don't provide you any younger siblings (this is opposite of the sentiment I expressed around a year ago...), you are also one of the best reasons to keep going. I know, that makes no sense. But you'll have a child - or children - one day that will undoubtedly make you feel the same way.
Before I close this up, I'll list some of the many names you're known by.
- Toby
- Tobias
- T-bone
- Boobah
- sock-arm
- monster
- Tobin the Deanster
- Deanster
- Monkey
- Turd Ferguson
- Blane (when I get mixed up)
- Little Smokey
Happy Birthday little man - I love you.
Daddy
Lucky for Tobin, he's got the happiest eyes. So descriptive, so thoughtful, so loving. Or as the nice lady at the grocery store observed to Kristen, "You can see the devil in those eyes." Wow, she only saw him for what, a few minutes? Either she reads people quite well, or it's more obvious than we realized. The latter I suppose.
Tobin, Happy Birthday kiddo. I can't believe you're 2 years old already. Seems like you were just small enough to fit into the crook of my arm, falling asleep and generally staying out of trouble. But you're much more fun now - mostly when you're not destroying our home. I don't exaggerate.
When I call your name, I get a "yeah?" as a response. I tell you, 'I love you,' and you respond with, "too." You're so thoughtful when someone isn't feeling well, or gets hurt. You immediately check on them and the worry in your face is genuine. You are so sweet and loving. I can't help but smile when I think about you.
Your face is so expressive. Defiance. Annoyance. Comedic. You let us know what you're thinking (whether we want to know or not), and let us know your stance on many things - especially when you don't like what we have to tell you. We'll ask you to stop doing something (like hitting the TV, your brother, the dog...) and you'll scrunch up your face shake your head, and yell, "NO!" When you know you've done something wrong, you run and hide. And you're getting really good at hiding too! You burrow into mommy's and my closet behind the hanging clothes. If I didn't know how predictable you were, it would be difficult to find you. In fact sometimes when you're not in any trouble, you're hiding back there getting into some...
You pick things up so quickly. I'm certain this is mostly because you've got an older brother who loves to teach you everything. You too tend to get along pretty well. It's a true pleasure to watch the two of you playing together nicely. 'Nicely' being the key word. Blane really does teach you everything, too - for better or for worse. The hitting, the throwing of objects big and small, the yelling. My gosh the yelling. When Blane knows he'll get in trouble for doing something he'll whisper instructions to you which he knows you'll carry out as a proxy for him.
It's funny how the two of you communicate too. Your language skills have come around sooner than Blane's, but you've had him to help you along at a faster pace. You still have some words that are little more than garbled sounds - but somehow or another Blane can translate for you. It's very interesting and cute. There are also times when you're not talkative (this isn't often AT ALL) and Blane makes decisions for you, "He Tobin, let me carry that hockey stick for you. It's too heavy for you. Take this rock instead." He's thoughtful like that, but you're catching on quickly.
I took you and Blane to an Avalanche game recently, and it was an experience. I don't know how much of the game you picked-up on, but it was a good time nonetheless. Since then however, every time a hockey game is on tv, you light up and exclaim, "GAME!" "Bane, Daddy, Me!" It made an impression on you I guess. I'm so glad. I love that I can take you to games with me, and that you apparently enjoy it on some level makes it that much more rewarding.
An absolute certainty is that you are a morning person. You make waking up a pleasant experience even when we don't want to be awake yet. You tend to sleep until around 8am when we can hear you knocking at your bedroom door, "Mama! Dada. Hey!" When I get up there to let you out, you're bundled in your covers with a smile bright enough to challenge the sun. "Hi!" It's got to be the best way I could start my days. You climb into my arms and hug me tight with a light kiss on my cheek. (Incidently, you still give a kiss when asked for a hug - I'm not sure if you know the difference or not, but it's ok with me.) The entire time I'm getting ready for work, you're laying in my bed next to mommy, just smiling at me - occassionally whispering things to me. I love it. I know mommy just wants to sleep a bit longer, but I love having you up with me in the mornings...as long as you're not trying to get into things in the kitchen or elsewhere in the house.
And get into things you do. It's really difficult to fathom the things you can reach. Top of the refrigerator? Not a problem. Tools in the garage? Not a problem. The disconnected hose that needs to be screwed on to the spigget and the handle that I've removed to keep you from turning on? NOT A PROBLEM. Most people child-proof their homes, move things out of reach, use locks, etc. With you it seems that we'd be better off just getting a large-dog sized kennel to keep you out of trouble. But I'm willing to bet the authorities would frown upon that idea - let them keep you in THEIR house for a couple days... Your mother chides me when I make suggestions like that of the kennel. But I know it's run through her mind a few times during the course of the many days she spends home with you and your brother. Trust me, she has.
Tobin, you're so anxious to grow up. You're already slipping into Blane's too-large roller blades and trying to skate around the house with them. You love to go swimming, and would try - have tried, actually - to jump into the pool without mommy, daddy, or water wings. At the rec center kiddie pool, it gently slopes down to a depth of about 3-4 feet. You just walk out until the water is over your head. You have no fear, and you don't want us to help either. It scares us, but makes me a little proud at the maniac that you clearly are.
As I type this, I just have a smile on my face that I can't get rid of. You make me so proud, so happy, so...full. I'm so blessed to have you as my son. You and your brother are so precious to me. While you may very well be the reason that your mother and I don't provide you any younger siblings (this is opposite of the sentiment I expressed around a year ago...), you are also one of the best reasons to keep going. I know, that makes no sense. But you'll have a child - or children - one day that will undoubtedly make you feel the same way.
Before I close this up, I'll list some of the many names you're known by.
- Toby
- Tobias
- T-bone
- Boobah
- sock-arm
- monster
- Tobin the Deanster
- Deanster
- Monkey
- Turd Ferguson
- Blane (when I get mixed up)
- Little Smokey
Happy Birthday little man - I love you.
Daddy
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posted by nick @ 4:37 PM
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