Widget, My Widget

My sweet Widget,

When I realized, to my utter shock, that I was pregnant with you when DramaBoy was only eight months old, I had no idea how right God was to send you to us, even though you weren't in our plans. I can no longer imagine life without you bringing your sweetness and mischief into our days, providing DramaBoy with companionship, lathering us with your hugs and snuggles. Any day I don't see your angelic blond curls and blue eyes is a little dimmer. Any day I don't have to smother my smiles at your incorrigible mischief is a little more boring.

You were my baby, always wanting Mama and snuggling into my neck, pressing your soft cheeks against mine. You are such a surprising mixture of peacefulness and business, going from zero to sixty in the blink of an eye. I love watching you bustle about, organizing things to your satisfaction, making sure that everyone has their coats and shoes and bags before heading out the door. What would we do without you urging us on, that imperious little voice demanding 'Mon! 'Mon! Go! with an impatient beckoning of your hand? You get even your father moving a little faster.

Your giggles are the most infectious I've ever heard. When you and DramaBoy submerge yourself in silliness, peals of laughter ringing in the air, my heart lightens until I think I might be able to levitate. DramaBoy does silly things just to make you laugh, you know, and then none of us can keep back our own laughter.

I love that you take such joy in small things: a doggy walking down the street, an ant crawling on the floor, a pair of shoes to put on. This morning when I put overalls on you for the first time, you took such delight in the novelty of pants that went all the way up: Pretty! you crooned as you patted your denimed chest. Never lose that ability, my Widget. It will bring you through the hard times, when large joys seem impossible to find.

It's hard for me to be stern with you sometimes, even when you really need it. That roguish twinkle in your eye as you test your boundaries makes it so difficult not to smile, even when you're driving me to distraction with your disobedience. You are the definition of Two, you know. I knew there was some Trouble in there, but I had no idea just how much until you figured out it was your birthday. And yet I find it almost impossible to attach the adjective "Terrible" to you, because as aggravating as you can be, my heart chuckles watching you zip around.

You brought change, disruption of plans, fear of failure, the unknown. And like so much else that stirs us up out of our tidy little lives, you've brought infinitely more joy than we ever could have expected. You and your brother help save my sanity every day, at the same time that you stretch it. You make me a better mother, woman, person; and God knew what he was doing when he sent you to me.

I love you, my precious two-year-old. Always and forever.

Happy Birthday! (Even if it is a week late.)