Gavin L.O.V.E.S. Elmo. He sleeps with him every night. He watches him most mornings. These cupcake liners, cake pops, and this cupcake stand have been in my mind for eight months. I will say he was just as excited about his cake as I wanted him to be. I could hardly keep his mouth off of those cake pops - it nearly killed him. 
Dear Gavin,I can hardly believe that you are two. Time passes so quickly these days! It's so funny because some days seem eternal, but then there we are celebrating another birthday and I realize you and your little-ness is going to be over fast.
You are at such a fun stage. Your dad and I keep talking about how we want to stop the clock and keep you this way - how you are right now. You are sweet and interesting and so full of energy. You are not perfect, but there are so many things about you that your dad and I think are just plain cute.
You are mindful of other people. You see a bruise or scrape and lean down to kiss it better. You are learning emotions and know mad, sad, scared, happy and other faces. You'll say, "She's sad," and then curl your lips down and feel empathy for a total stranger.
You are mindful of other people. You see a bruise or scrape and lean down to kiss it better. You are learning emotions and know mad, sad, scared, happy and other faces. You'll say, "She's sad," and then curl your lips down and feel empathy for a total stranger.You ask "Why?" all of the time. Sometimes when we get back a few generations in your questions, I lose track of the reason why we do some things. You are just a natural questioner. I'm not seeing an end to this anytime soon.
I'm still not sure what to do with your hair. Sometimes it looks really cute long and dad really wants you to look like a surfer. But mostly these days I want it short. Case in point:
You are a mover. Running, bouncing, hopping - you are so fast now that it looks silly when I try to chase after you. You jump off the couch onto the pillows. You pretend swim on the carpet to show us your new moves. You will jump and land on you bum right on the floor and then laugh your head off.
You are a mover. Running, bouncing, hopping - you are so fast now that it looks silly when I try to chase after you. You jump off the couch onto the pillows. You pretend swim on the carpet to show us your new moves. You will jump and land on you bum right on the floor and then laugh your head off. You play swords. You always remember to give me a weapon and say, "On guard, mommy!" Recently you gave me a corner of your blanket to defend myself. Sweet. You love to play Operation and look at pictures of yourself. You ride your bike with such precision and speed for not using the pedals. You love pens and touching your dad's guitars when you know you're not supposed to. You've found a little corner behind an ottoman in mom and dad's bedroom that you sometimes escape to and will sit quietly there by yourself. You LOVE to hide. You hide in the same place time after time and think we still won't be able to find you. You think being tickled in your armpits is hysterical. That and you watching the ice skating scene on Bambi are those moments when we can hear a real laugh.
You've gotten a little more independent lately. Although we play together everyday, I'm can find you in a corner keeping busy and talking and playing by yourself at least a few times a day. I'm trying so hard to give you time so that we can really play and I feel super guilty when I have you plopped in front of the TV for an hour. Right now that's where I'm at so that I can get a few things done and feed McKay, so hopefully you're learning something.
You are a talker. Especially since you've turned two, it's like we're having full-on conversations with each other. You say sentences that are 5-7 words long. You know what we mean and you remember new words and can use them the next time you encounter them. You answer our questions and can connect something we're talking about to something you've experienced. You say things like, "It's perfect!" when the bath water feels good. You say, "Mommy, will you change my diaper please?" when you're dirty. You say, "Happy Birthday for you" in a sweet little voice and hand us something you think is special. You say 'my' instead of 'I.' "My do it." "No, mommy. My sing it." You were making this weird/rude 'blah' sound at a man at the register last week. When I told you that sounded rude, you folded your arms sweetly and asked, "How are you doing?" I think he thought you were cuter then.
You are a talker. Especially since you've turned two, it's like we're having full-on conversations with each other. You say sentences that are 5-7 words long. You know what we mean and you remember new words and can use them the next time you encounter them. You answer our questions and can connect something we're talking about to something you've experienced. You say things like, "It's perfect!" when the bath water feels good. You say, "Mommy, will you change my diaper please?" when you're dirty. You say, "Happy Birthday for you" in a sweet little voice and hand us something you think is special. You say 'my' instead of 'I.' "My do it." "No, mommy. My sing it." You were making this weird/rude 'blah' sound at a man at the register last week. When I told you that sounded rude, you folded your arms sweetly and asked, "How are you doing?" I think he thought you were cuter then. You are a smart little cookie. Really. You can sing your ABCs perfectly and are starting to learn some of the letters and their sounds. That really wasn't my doing, so thank you Leapfrog. You recognize letters and point them out around town and say the sound that matches. Your blocks are more fun to you now because you realize that those letters actually mean something. You can count to 15, but don't quite get the 1-1 matching business. Some days you have four toes, other days you have seven. When I help, you've got all ten. One day you counted 13 horses in the corral by our house! Just for the record, there are only four. But I still love to ask. You're learning concepts that I think are pretty tricky - like hot, warm and cold or crunchy, chewy and sour. You know your name is Gavvy Robinson and that you are two. You can't hold up two fingers, but boy is it fun to watch you try. You remember things that surprise me. Like where a puzzle piece goes after doing it only one time. You are learning shapes and are pretty good with your colors.
You are obsessed with The Big One. The big banana. The big drink of water. The big handful of chips. The big grape. Whatever it is, you want it big. Your voice sounds a little monster-like when you say it and your eyes scrunch together. I hear it everyday. I don't ever want to forget that.
You already are telling me what to do. You wake up wanting me to take you bye-bye. Usually to Grandma and Papa's house. You pull me to where you need me to be or tell me to get up or sit by you or to stop what I'm doing so I can pay attention to you. If I don't do what you ask, you have started helping yourself by pulling chairs and benches where they need to be to get what you want. No drawer or cupboard is safe anymore. You look like an adult opening those child locks. It's time for mom to start reorganizing!
You already are telling me what to do. You wake up wanting me to take you bye-bye. Usually to Grandma and Papa's house. You pull me to where you need me to be or tell me to get up or sit by you or to stop what I'm doing so I can pay attention to you. If I don't do what you ask, you have started helping yourself by pulling chairs and benches where they need to be to get what you want. No drawer or cupboard is safe anymore. You look like an adult opening those child locks. It's time for mom to start reorganizing! You tell me which direction to turn the car even though I've clearly got our destination mapped out. As we drive around town, you recognize important landmarks like Animal Ark and the yogurt place and Costco. Even off the freeway you can tell where dad's favorite fish store is. You're a pretty good navigator for a two-year-old.
You love your brother. You don't usually pay tons of attention to him, but you tell me when he's crying and whisper when you are walking by his door and you know he's sleeping. You wake up and sometimes ask where he is. You will lean down occasionally and try to make him laugh. You kiss his head and say, "Be happy, McKay!" or "It's okay little brother!" when he's crying.
Gosh, we love you. We're so glad that you're ours and can't wait to see what you'll learn next.
Gosh, we love you. We're so glad that you're ours and can't wait to see what you'll learn next. Happy Birthday, little boy.
Love,
Mommy
