He’s still adorable, still funny, still excited, but it’s different. Not as many things are new, and he can talk in complete sentances, read, and knows everything (or thinks he does, which is as annoying as it is funny). He’s no longer a toddler, no longer walks with the diaper-induced waddle he once did, and won’t sleep on my lap in a little ball anymore.
Max can carry on conversations now. When he was two, there were no conversations. There was a lot of talking to, but the only responses were giggles or an occasional, “Oh Wow!”. Now, there are long conversations about everything. Max asks really good questions, and I occasionally have a good answer for him.
Max, I love watching you grow up. It’s all moving so quickly. You’re your own person now, not just this little ball of cute waiting to know stuff. You’re so smart and funny now, so much smarter and funnier than I ever hoped. Your a good boy, better than I ever thought I’d have. I can’t wait to see how you grow up tomorrow, and for the rest of my life.