Two

This boy of mine is TWO today. 

I may have been feeling a little bit sentimental last night about the fact that he wasn't going to be a one-year-old anymore, so he and I went on a picnic to commemorate the event. He thought eating outside was AWESOME. He actually thinks that anything that happens outside is awesome.

If you don't know Briggs, here he is in one picture;
Head thrown back.
Mouth open in a giggle or song or other loud noise of his choice.
In motion.

He also enjoys sabotaging his own photo ops by sticking his face or hand directly on the camera lens while shouting "NO MO' PICTURE, PWEASE!"

We celebrated today with waffles at IHOP and a little bit of ice-skating. And he delayed his nap this afternoon by laying in his bed and saying "I'm two" over and over for about 45 minutes.

He's a hand-full, I tell you, but we do adore him.
Happy Birthday, Mr. Briggs!

Progress

We've been hard at work on our house. And when I say "we," I mean "Mark." 

Mark has been hard at work on our house. 

I won't bore you with a remodel play-by-play, but I thought I give a little update via the progress on the main level of the house. 

This is what we started with. 

And we thought to ourselves, "Nope, we don't like that. Let's destroy it. Let's destroy the entire thing." After a weekend of demolition, we found ourselves here thinking, "Ummm...did we take things a little too far."

But, never fear, because like I said, we've been working very hard and the main level is really starting to shape up quite nicely. In fact, it's actually starting to look like it might be useful one day.

And, again, when I say that we've been working very hard, I mean that my husband and father and father-in-law have been working very hard. Me? I just walk around and measure things and get confused and then go chase Briggs around the backyard. 

I am SUPER helpful. 

Of all the mammas in the world

Two years ago - long before I saw my son's face or met his birthmother - I wrote this post about the woman who would carry him, give him life, and then make the decision that would ultimately lead him into mine.

I went back and re-read that post this morning and - after having the incredible opportunity to meet her - I'm amazed at how accurate many of my words and thoughts were.

Yesterday being Mother's Day, and my first official one at that, I thought about her a lot.

Over and over I pondered the fact that
another woman
carried
and birthed
this child
but that he
calls me
Mamma
and I call him
mine. 

And that, my friends, is an incredible responsibility.
She trusted me - a total stranger - to do what she could not. She asked me to make sure that her son would be okay, and that he would grow up healthy and strong and thriving. She trusted me to take.good.care of him.

Yesterday, I was celebrated and honored as an important part of Briggs's life. I had an amazing day with flowers and family and cuddles and new jeans.

But in my heart, I celebrated her, because she too is an incredibly important part of Briggs life. I want Briggs to always know that. And I pray that I can live up to her expectations and honor all the things she trusted me with in raising this boy.

23 months

So it seems that we are well into the month of May. Around here in the Kyle house, that's pretty significant - because this month, Mr. Briggs will turn two. Missing his birthday last year was a little bit hard for me, so I've really been looking forward to celebrating WITH him this year. 

As the occasion approaches, I'm well aware that I'm watching him change from a baby into a little boy. And there are so.many.things about him right now that I wish I could just bottle up and keep forever. 

Like the little bit of chubby that is still left on his wrists and knees, 

and the way he says "t" for "k" and "d" in place of "g,"

and the fact that our daily walks to the mailbox are full of adventure, 

or the way that he will dance anytime, anywhere - music or no music. 

And his giggle. Oh boy. Never have I heard another that is so contagious. 

Often - whenever he is whining or throwing a fit or throwing his food - I find myself wishing that he would grow up just a little bit and get rid of these obnoxious behaviors. But then I remember that as he outgrows these "naughties," he will also outgrow many of the things I'm enjoying so much.

So, while I know I don't have to love the hard parts, I'm doing my best to not spend my time with him wishing he were older. (Funny story...during this little photoshoot you see here, I actually tossed a book across the room because he was whining in.my.face and demanding that I read it, and all I wanted to do was take pictures. REAL mature. I know.)

This boy is nine-parts amazing and it is unbelievable how much depth he has added to my life.

He is changing so quickly.
And he is changing me so quickly.

(Another funny story...after I declared a wrap on the photoshoot, he stuck his hand in his pocket and demanded these last shots. Wouldn't smile, but rather felt compelled to play the part of the cool guy. Something about the hand in the pocket brings that out in him. I've tried to communicate to him that cool guys don't cry when they then later can't quite find their pockets, but he hasn't caught on to that yet.)