I wish I could remember being 2.

I think 2 is probably one of the greatest ages you can be, and unfortunately, we don't remember most, or any of our age 2 life.

PJ had the best weekend ever.  Saturday morning, we went to the store, where he can talk to people and eat bread and cheese as we shop.  Unfortunately the weather in this damn city went from 90 (literally) on Tuesday to about, oh, 45 on Saturday, so no park.  We came home and played inside.

That afternoon, it was my best friend's son's 4th birthday party.  All of PJ's friends would be there.  There was a total of 13 kids and about 7 moms.  PJ had a blast.  Played with toys, balloons, ate pizza, had some cake, got a goody bag.

Yesterday, he was the most rambunctious (sp?) I've ever seen him.  He DID.  NOT.  STOP.  Sometimes on the weekends he doesn't nap, but he'll at least lay down and relax for a little while.  NO.  He was running around playing with this toy, that toy, eating that snack or this snack, helping Maggie play her toys, helping me do laundry, you name it.   He seriously sat down to eat and that was about it.  We couldn't go outside again because of the weather.

He passed out at 6:50.  (I know you probably think awesome, but when PJ goes to bed THAT early, he never sleeps well THAT night.  So yes, I get a couple extra hours of me time before I go to bed, but then he wakes up 2 or 3 times, so it kind of blows).

I was just thinking about how easy it was for him to enjoy himself.  Some yogurt, a hot dog, pretzels, cheese, juice, pizza, cupcakes.  Playing with friends, seeing balloons, watching a little Toy Story.   Getting hugs and kisses and giving hugs and kisses.  Not worrying about anything and knowing that when you go to sleep and when you wake up Mommy or Daddy will be there to greet you and smother you with love.

As trying and stubborn as my little guy can be sometimes, I love him being 2.  I love his personality, his loving and caring for his sister, how he climbs up on me when he is still sleepy or getting sleepy.  I love when he grabs my face to give me a kiss, and I love how he tries to give Maggie some of his yogurt.  I love how he wants to climb up on Daddy's chair and sit by him and how he dances to the hot dog song on Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.  I love that although he can easily go down the stairs by himself, he still reaches for my hand so we can count together.  I love how he giggles, oh does he giggle, when we "chase" each other around the room, or when I tickle his belly. 

I love when I pick him up for bed and he rests his head on my shoulder, and I can feel the warmth and contentness he feels because he knows he's safe and loved.

And I love that I get to experience 2 again, with Maggie.   And that I can tell them how their 2 year old life was.  And how much I loved living it with them.