Maxwell Simon turns 2 today. I feel more than a little guilty about his birthday this year since my NYC trip coincides. However I made sure that I was on the earliest train I could catch and that I didn’t linger in the city, even though others were deciding to make a weekend out of the trip. I know that he won’t realize that it’s his birthday. At least not until he arrives at daycare and the other kids celebrate on Friday. He won’t realize that I’m not there when he wakes up that morning on Saturday. The good news is that I will be returning home Saturday afternoon and will have a chance to celebrate with Max then. We will give him our gifts then and wait for other celebrations to follow.
He’s a beautiful child that makes us laugh almost daily. Even his tantrums, that seem to come with being 2, are short lived. They’re simple and quick. In the past few weeks he has developed his own mannerisms, his own unique phrases, his own unique personality traits. He is every bit as independent as his sister, but in totally different ways. He can’t yet dress himself as she can, but he can methodically figure out how an object works. He can passionately pound the keys of the piano and sing his heart out. He can play for hours, hard. He loves to cuddle, loves attention, and yet is loathe to seek it. In fact I could almost say he’s shy. He rarely speaks when visitors are around, yet talks constantly when he has you alone. He is imaginative and gentle, yet fierce when he feels he has been wronged.
And although I know I said the same thing last year, I look to Catherine now and I can’t imagine that he’ll be her size next year at this time. He has grown so strong, so fast, so tall, so big, so smart, so passionate in a year’s time