TWO Too

Recently, I was laying down in Elijah’s room. Diana was tidying up and Eli was executing a series of body slams on my stomach. I looked around and asked, “What was in this room before Eli was born?”

Diana thought for a moment. “I dunno. Your guitars?”

I think that scene sums up precisely how much our lives have changed in the last two years.

I can’t honestly remember the days before Elmo and milk in the mircrowave for exactly 40 seconds and my baby size Star Wars t-shirts and waking up to baby steam rollers and irritating the heck out of Grover and Elephants and duct taping diapers and counting to ten and the alphabet and tremendously hilarious tantrums and Diana’s desperate attempts at cleaning and Goldfish crackers and Everybody Move and the Eli Grover dance and failing potty training and Diana’s lovely songs and Pixar movies and poking me in the eye and crawling and walking and running and “Luv you.”

Oh…those words. Those words kill me every time. “Luv you.” Eli, you’ve made me truly understand those words in the last two years. You’ve made me understand what it is to love your mother. To love that mentally unstable dog. And to love my life.

Happy birthday. You’re the greatest kid in the world. I’m proud to be your dad.

Lamest. Blog post. Ever.