Okay, Ben, so you don't say words that regularly, but you sing the alphabet up to L now. If we sing A, you'll sing B, then we'll sing C, and you'll sing D, until we get up to LMNOP, and you get freaked out and start over with A. I don't blame you. Why did they cram all of those letters together in the first place? That was a horrible idea.
You had your two-year-old birthday party this past weekend (photos forthcoming), and we had about forty people come through our doors, 95% of who were adults. So it was like this spoiled rich kid's birthday party with piles and piles of brightly wrapped puzzles and clothes and shoes and toys toppling over a tricyle and a giant Radio Flyer wagon. I have never in my life seen so many presents for anyone, at any birthday party I have ever been to. It was ridiculous. On top of that, balloons and candy and cake and pizza were everywhere. You were overjoyed at first, but as the day wore on, you became overwhelmed. At one point, you were sitting in a puddle with cake all over your face. At another, you screamed as your aunt wiped your ever-snotful nose. At another, you got kicked in the face by someone on the swing because you ran in front of it before any of us could stop you. The highs were high, and the lows were low, just like at any good party. Your presents are now in the office, which will be Baby #2's room in twenty-three weeks. The crickets that are taking over my life are hiding in them as we speak.
I love you, Benjamin the Two Year Old. You are a smart little boy, and tonight before you went to bed, you said "cup" and "shell" in your cute baby voice. When we went to check in on you after we said goodnight, you jumped into bed and fake snored to make us believe we didn't just hear you tearing books off of the shelf. You have a great sense of humor, already; I can tell.