to carter, on the occasion of your second

Dear Carter Christopher,

You are two! You are growing strong and healthy, and tall. So tall, in fact, that when adults see you in the park, they wonder why you're not delivering monologues, because they assume you're four years old.

You're showing off some personality now, and it's such a special one to watch unfold. You're still curious, you like to be busy, and you enjoy routine. I'm so grateful you still love to laugh. You fake laugh sometimes, which is only kind-of cute, but when you get tickled, that's for-real cute. I can't help but laugh right along with you.

Your words are coming more and more easily, even if they're seemingly made-up. I can't wait to have conversations with you, and find out what's really going on in your head.

You've traveled a good bit! In January you came to visit me for the first time, you've endured some hefty road trips to and from your new home, and you made the long flight to see your dad graduate. You've been to the beach, and you're mostly interested in the expanse of it all, and running every square inch of it. After you've done that, you're ready to call it a day.

In keeping with our birthday tradition, this is what your parents have to say:

I'd describe Carter's personality with these few words:
mom: Curious, friendly, busy.
dad: He is all two-year old BOY.

Carter is happiest when he ...
mom: Realizes that Daddy is home for the day. He runs to the door with a huge smile on his face and throws his arms around him.
dad: Is outside.

Carter is not-so-charming when he ...
mom: Does not get his way and then proceeds to cry, whine, or run away.
dad: Is hot, hungry and tired (like his momma).

My proudest moment as a parent this past year was ...
mom: When he took his first steps and when he learned how to kiss and hug.
dad: The way Carter presented himself at his baptism. Not only did he look like a stud, he acted like one, too.

My un-proudest moment as a parent this past year was ...
mom: When we were touring daycares this summer and we would walk into the classrooms and he would just start dumping toys all over the floor.
dad: Locking him in the house alone while he was sleeping [on accident, for the record].

I laugh out loud when Carter ...
mom: Laughs his big belly laugh.
dad: Says, "Cha-chee" when he sees a fire truck.

After his 2nd birthday I'm most looking forward to ...
mom: More words. He has a lot to say but can't seem to get the words out.
dad: Hearing him put a sentence together.

Of course, we are so thrilled to celebrate you and who you're becoming.

I want you to know on your second birthday, though, that while you continue to grow in stature and cognitive ability and everything else right and good, this has been a year where (gasp) not everything was about you.

It's been my observation that a family's first year of having a firstborn is wildly imbalanced. Parents are learning a new identity, families are redefining their dynamic, and babies are the center of everything. And that's how it should be, for a season. Parents are called to pour themselves into their children, and be fully engaged.

But we aren't meant to function on this earth as its center, and parents have to live out that principle intentionally if their children are going to have even a chance of living a life of selflessness and service.

Your mom and dad want that for you, I know, and fortunately for you, they're working hard to create balance and perspective for you.

This year your mom ran a marathon. Your dad graduated from medical school. While they pursue goals like these, they are modeling for you hard work, dedication, and discipline.

This year the three of you got to move into your very own place, in a new city, when your dad started his job. While your family settles into a new environment, and works to build new friendships there, they are modeling for you the intentionality of investing in people, and in your community.

This year has been a good one for you, but more importantly it's been one of family balancing, and I think that's so important.

So today, Little Man, let me tell you this: Trust me, your folks will always gush over you. And know that I still cry just about every time I leave a visit with you. (I can't help it.) Your grandparents are still crazy over you.

And it's because you're that loved that we desire for you an understanding of how you fit into this world that's much, much bigger than you. I think you see it, too.

We love you to pieces, Little Man. Happy Second.