Two

My little man is two and I finally understand the expression time flies. He is running and jumping, taking the stairs with alternating feet, and demanding to wear his crocs to bed and his rain boots to school. He is learning the alphabet and he sings along to the itsy bitsy spider. He says I love you; out loud and in sign. A week ago, he transitioned easily to his toddler bed. When I tuck him in he says "bye, mama. Bye!" and blows me a kiss. In the morning, he sneaks into my room and crawls into my bed, wraps his arms around me and plants a big smooch right on my lips. He swims like a fish, leaps off the diving board, and kicks all the water onto the bathroom floor while he "practices" in the tub. He plays rough, sometimes hits, but always apologizes with a big hug. He says "hi" to every person we walk by, shouts "dog" and "dump truck" and "oh look mama" as we drive around town, and sings all the "na na nas" right on que to Akons latest single. He runs to church in a real hurry to "help the babies" in the nursury. He never has to be reminded to finish his plate, no matter what I put on it. He sits semi still after fetching the scizzors so mama can "make me handsome?" His blond hair goes bed head day after day because he refuses to let me comb it. And he never fails to convince me that he is the sweetest, funniest, most intelligent two year old at least this side of the great wall (if not on both sides of it).