I think every parent of one child has always wondered, “How could I possibly love another child as much as I love this one?” And then boom! The second child comes along. Enter: Arthur.
Here is a child I could have never imagined. Because once you have a kid you know better than yourself, it is impossible to think that you could give birth to another person who is so completely his own and different from anyone you know. Don’t get me wrong. He’s definitely a Weston. He has the stubborn streak and the gentle soul. But Arthur also has something so uniquely his own that I have difficulty even naming it. He’s mischievous. He’s wild. He’s really funny. He’s sociable (he didn’t get that from either of his parents or his brother), independent, and so creative.
I can never turn my back on him. He started walking at 9 1/2 months and hasn’t slowed down since. Or paused. Or sat down, or so it feels.
The other day I glanced over and saw Arthur trying to cut his easel with a steak knife. Two hours later he had somehow managed to get his hands on Jeff’s screwdriver and was “fixing” his firetruck.
Arthur has created his own language. He still pretty much refuses to copy what anyone says to him, but he has rather come up with his own little thing. Julian and I speak “Arthur” fluently. Each sound or word he says has meaning that we understand. Of course he has words that can actually be considered words, but he also has many things that he has just created. It’s kind of weird. I’m sure our pediatrician, who is concerned with child language development, will raise a brow. I just tip my hat to Arthur.
Arthur loves horses and moose. He loves trains and busses. He loves his brother and mama and papa. He loves to give hugs and kisses. He’ll take my face into his hands and pull me close and smack a wet one my lips. I will never get enough of those snotty, dirty-mouthed kisses.
Arthur’s hair is always wild, and he is always running. Today he fell on his head three times. Only the third fall that made his brow swell and sent him down a flight of stairs made him cry. He usually has no patience for sitting down and feeling hurt.
Arthur is brave. He climbs the tallest ladders and goes down the fastest slides. “More, Mama.” Over and over again. He is indestructible. He walks up to kids he doesn’t know. He high-fives strangers.
At the playground he hits the ground running with his chest pushed forward – just to make sure everyone else knows he owns this playground. I usually don’t see him until it’s time to leave. He is the most self-sufficient little person.
Arthur is a good dancer and has grown to love many different songs. When he was a baby he and I would dance to “The Greatest Discovery.” To this day he will still rest his head on my shoulder and sway with me when I put that song on. He also loves “Uptown Funk” and some more current tunes. If anyone had told me that I would actually get into pop music once I had kids, I would have laughed in their faces.
Arthur is our little adventure. He is the spice to our life. I am so glad that he is our Arthur.
Happy 2nd Birthday, you gorgeous, wild, sweet boy. I love and adore you so completely.