Last night your dad had a meeting in the town where you were born, so we went up and met him for pizza to celebrate your birthday. On the way home, I looked at the clock and realized we were passing the gas station where we had stopped almost exactly two years ago on our first trip to the hospital the night before you were born. Then, as the big wet snowflakes started falling, your dad and I started talking about the day that I took you for your two-week check-up, when the rain drops turned to snow flakes as you and I were leaving the clinic, and how worried I was when I thought your dad was going to get stuck at work when his food delivery truck slid into the ditch.
This morning when I woke up, I wondered if I'll remember those little moments twenty or even ten years from now. Will I remember how we celebrated your birthday by eating pizza and letting you pick out a new engine to add to your train collection, and even though your dad was offering to buy you several, you just wanted one, James, and how you were so excited to get your James engine that you stayed up the whole way home? Will I remember how you and I celebrated your birthday tonight by getting frozen yogurt, and you insisted on getting "choclate with ceral," or how this weekend I caught you reading Good Night, Thomas to your teddy bear before giving him a kiss and putting him in your crib?
Liam, I know a lot of moms say this, but having you in my life has changed me. Having a two-year-old is a challenge for sure, but the spunk you've added to my life is something I always needed.