The curse.

Dear Evan,

It occurred to me today as I was picking up the calendar that you had flung across the room, that in 10 short days you will be two years old. And, it really does seem like yesterday that your father and I gazed in wonder at this wee little man that we had made. You were so tiny and feisty, with your head full of blond hair, you seemed to be saying "Dude! Let's party!" from the start.

I have really enjoyed these past two years. You have been one little ball of delicious fun. Just last night you brought the baby tub to your father and I when you saw that it was Ellie's bath time. Then you insisted that you sit on the counter so you could keep an eye on the proceedings, just to make sure we were doing it correctly.







And then there are days like today. You have decided that the brilliant little mind that you were blessed with should be used for nefarious purposes whenever possible, and I WANT TO PUT YOU ON CRAIGSLIST.

You sprinted around the corner and presented me with the plunger from the bathroom while I was eating my breakfast this morning. Grinning, you seemed to be saying "Ha, I've started already. You're going to eat mushy cereal today SUCKA!".

You rescued a used up, crusty tube of toothpaste from the trashcan and taunted me while I was changing your sister by sucking on it.

You drowned your monster trucks in the humidifier water and when I told you in my best dismayed Mommy voice that you had made a mess, you replied. "Yeah! I make a mess!" So much glee in your voice, you'd think I had just told you that we were going to have ice cream for lunch.

I tried to have you "help" me in sweeping the floors by having you hold the dustpan. You smiled at me and flung the dustpan in the air, covering us both in used Cheerios and cracker crumbs. Then had the audacity to tell me "Maaa-eee dirty" and look disgusted.

You played a lovely game of throw-the-sandwich with Emma today at lunch time. She started out chastising you, but you soon had her convinced to join in, because flinging grilled cheese again and again is just so much fun.

You bounced on the couch when I told you not to bounce. You let your juice dribble out of your mouth and run down your clean shirt to see how it felt. You put your hand in your nasty diaper and proudly told me "I POOP!"

So with this birthday milestone approaching, I really can only think of one thing to say to you, my dear boy.

When you grow up, I hope you have children who act just like you did.

Lots of them.

Love,
Mommy