Crosby is Two

On Friday May 8th, Crosby turned two. How is this possible? I can't explain it. It only feels like a year, at most, since I experienced what both the midwife and doctor who delivered him said was the 2nd worst birth they'd ever seen. Seriously.

With the older two kids I wrote monthly letters for about 2 years of their lives. I seriously have dropped the ball on that, and it makes me so sad. I'm going to try and start it up again... even if it's a "group letter" to all three kids. When I look back on those letters, I read so many things I had forgotten about. Cute things they did or said; aspects of their little personalities that have now gone.

Anyway, here's a letter to Crosby on his 2nd birthday.


My darling Oz:

Happy birthday! It's hard to believe you are two. In some ways you seem younger (because you still don't talk... but we're working on it!) and in some ways you seem older (because you're bigger than most 3 year olds we know. And some 4 year olds. And physically, you're quite advanced.)

Here is a snapshot of you at exactly two. I wish I had a picture of you eating the yummy cupcakes Amy made for your birthday party, but you hate cake and the picture would have just been of you dropping a cupcake off your high chair, so I didn't bother. I didn't want you to waste one of those cupcakes that I could have been eating! But there are plenty of foods that you do like, for example: GRAPES! (this is probably your favorite thing in the world to eat. But they have to be purple, not green. And when you eat them, after I cut them in half and put them on your tray, you have to turn EACH AND EVERY one of them over, cut side down, before you eat them. OCD?) apples, pineapple, strawberries, toast, yogurt, green beans, sweet potatoes, carrots, bananas (but just in baby food form. Real bananas get thrown to the floor), and chocolate. You have no interest whatsoever in ice cream, cookies, cake, lollipops, or really any treat except for chocolate. So your belly is unexplainable... unless maybe you are going to be Santa Clause when you grow up. But if that's the case, why don't you have a beard?

One of the funniest things about your eating habits is that if I offer you something, you always accept it. Then, after inspection if you deem it unworthy of eating, rather than hand it back to me or refuse to take it in the first place, you hurl it to the ground. Nice. You're a big fan of water, green plant juice, and milk. The only "grown up" food you eat is pizza. No meat. Not a chance.

Your prized possession is your blankie. Here is a montage of photos displaying your kiddie pool we have on the deck in back. Your all time favorite past-time is throwing things in water, preferably rocks. So we fill this pool with water, and then get you rocks from the back yard, and you'll spend HOURS throwing rocks in, then getting in the pool and throwing them out, and then getting out of the pool and tossing them back in. The problem is, other things have gotten thrown in besides rocks. Like Dad's iPhone, which miraculously survived the dunk. And Erin's cell phone. Which did not. And an Elmo plays the piano book. On the day I whipped out the camera, you decided to throw your blankie in the water. This provided much entertainment... and I was glad we have 4 backup blankies!




Because you are so interested in water, we have to keep all the toilets in the house tightly shut. But recently, we discovered we also now have to keep the doors to the bathroom shut as well. This is because your new trick is to get in the bathtub and start the water, and then throw your plastic animals in the water rushing from the tap. You often do this when we are rushing to school, requiring a full clothing change, which does not help our punctuality. But we still love you like crazy.

You've become a proficient jumper lately and adore climbing on my bed, burrowing in the pillows, and then jumping all over the place. You also enjoy jumping in your own bed. Most mornings I wake to the sounds of you jumping and laughing. It's better than any alarm clock I could imagine, even the one that puts out a bacon smell instead of an alarm.

Your love and devotion to Dora the Explorer is still intact, despite my attempts to introduce you to other worthy cartoon characters such as the Backyardigans or Bob the Builder. You'll tolerate Diego, but only if Dora is in the episode (or, inexplicably, Baby Dino.) You'll watch certain Baby Einstein shows, and really love watching the kids play Wii sports. In fact, you love watching anyone play sports, your favorite being basketball. When we take the kids to swimming you spend the first half of swimming scanning the floor for items you can pick up and attempt to throw into the pool, and the second half of the time trying to escape to watch the college team practice basketball. This does not include the time you spent about 10 minutes eating a yellow crayon while I talked to Ellis's mom, and then you threw it up all over the two of us. That was super classy, by the way.

Being outside is the best thing in the world to you, and you make a break for the door whenever it's left open for even a second. On rainy days you stand in front of the sliding glass door and stare out, desperate to be out in the water. At the playground, your favorite thing to do is swing. I like it too, because it keeps you in one place so I don't have to chase you all over to keep you alive.

All in all, you are a busy, joyful little guy. This probably goes without saying, but I love you fiercely... as do your siblings, dad, your siblings' friends, and everyone we come in contact with. Your joy is contagious. As I run on the Bronx River path with you in the jogger, people I pass smile with glee at the look of rapture on your face, as you squeal with delight and open and close your hands. You live life to the fullest. Now promise me you won't get any older... I don't want you to stop ever being my baby.

I love you buddy.
love,
mom