Tuesday, March 28, 2017

to luke, on the occasion of your second

"It's the merry-hearted boys that make the best men!"
-- Irish proverb


Dear Luke Taylor,

Two years! I know these two are only a glimpse into the man you'll spend a lifetime becoming, and I imagine you'll surprise us more often than not. But on this birthday of yours, I can't help but wonder if we will look back one day, a long time from now, and see traces of you in these pictures, and stories, and memories of our Littlest.

Will you care about your hair?


Hard to say.

Will you impress a date with sophisticated table manners?


I don't know if the odds are in your favor, and I'd hoped for more progress by now, but I still dream big for you.


But for all the things we can't know about you as a grown-up, there is plenty to know and love about you today.

You climb everywhere. Onto tables, up playground ladders, into cabinets, out of your crib. Nowhere is off limits, including the oven. That day your mom found you sitting on the oven door was, well, a reminder to keep a very close eye on you and your curiosity. (No scars from that venture. The oven was off.)

One day after watching your scaling shenanigans, Carter named you Mr. Monkey, and I think he was onto something.

And gosh, your brother. You love him to pieces. You look for every chance to play with him, to follow him, to mimic him. Every day you wish you were walking with him into school, but settle instead for crashing the occasional big event, like inserting yourself into his class's Halloween parade. (I love that video so much.)

You fight like brothers do, but you are happiest when you're on top of with him.
 

He is your person. I hope that's the case for a very long time.


You still hold hands with your mom and dad, and they know to soak up these moments, because every time you march yourself boldly into your Sunday school classroom, they feel the dull ache of these early signs of self-reliance.

They adore you, the one that made them a happy family of four.



When they reflect on their second-born on his second birthday, here's what they will remember:

I'd describe Luke's personality with these few words:
mom: 90% sweet, 10% sassy.
dad:  Happy, animated, and laid-back.

Luke is happiest when he ...
mom: Is with Carter.
dad: Is wherever his big brother is.

Luke is not-so-charming when he ...
mom: Throws his food on the floor during meals.
dad: Bites Carter.

My proudest moment as Luke's mom/dad this year was ...
mom: Watching his love for his brother grow and develop. Carter is Luke's favorite person.
dad: When he said "Carter" for the first time.

My un-proudest moment as Luke's mom/dad this year was ...
mom: When he bit Carter out of anger.
dad: When the neighbor brought Luke back to the driveway after she found him in front of their house the next street over. It's never good when the neighbor says, "I know you can only watch them for so long until they go missing." Fail.

Luke's best quality is ...
mom: His love of people.
dad: His smile.

I laugh out loud when Luke ...
mom: Gives one of his huge smiles.
dad: Says "Cheese!" for a photo; when he falls asleep sitting up like an old man; and most recently, when he attempts to say his own name.


After his second birthday, I'm most looking forward to ...
mom: More language developing and being able to talk to him even more.
dad: New words, and more firsts!

Yes, yes, our hearts explode when you smile and giggle and dance and snuggle your people.

But don't get a big head, Lukey, because that's never the full story, and you can count on me to shoot straight with you when it comes to the full story about human nature. You can be demanding and stubborn and unlovely and naughty. You push the boundaries and cross into the forbidden some days. When you don't get your way, we hear it loud and clear.

Those things don't scare me though, because those, child, are merely symptoms of our total depravity, and I don't know a single grown-up who is immune.

So when I think about that day a long time from now, when we reminisce about your two-year old self, maybe you'll still rock your epic bedhead, and mercy, I pray you're more refined at the dinner table. Maybe you'll be climbing real mountains by then, and it would be dreamy if you loved your big brother as much as you do today.

But more than any of that, I hope you'll still walk yourself into church on Sundays, never far from the arm-lock of Jesus, and always grateful for His grace to keep you close. That would be celebration-worthy, indeed.

In the meantime, we'll swoon at your smile and delight in this merry heart of yours. You're going to make one of the very best men.


We love you now, and we'll love you then, Littlest. Happy Second.

No comments:

Post a Comment