What I’m about to say is one hundred precent cliche, and I’m not even a bit ashamed, because it is truly, exactly 100 percent how I feel.

Hugo is two.

I mean!!!?????

Where has time gone, and also holy smokes, how has is my baby two years?

And wait for it….one more cliche bomb….

I feel at once completely surprised that this kid is, in fact, two and not a brand newborn baby, and also totally dumbfounded by the notion that he hasn’t been part of our family since the beginning. He is a light, this child, with a face like my grandfather’s and hair like a coconut tree. He brings us together, smoothing over wrinkles, and shining though cracks. He’s forever cuddling up to his sister when she’s out of sorts. He makes jokes that ease the tension. He demanding that we “play rough”, the whole family in a dog pile at the foot of the bed, and then we all come out winded and happier together.

Anyway, please indulge me with few notes on what this kiddo is like at two:

He chats up a storm, far more than his sister did at that age
His favourite colour is blue, but I’m not sure if it is because he actually has an affinity for the hue, or just it’s easy for him to say. Whatever. When he’s overwhelmed and sad and can’t quite express what he wants, he cries, “I want a bluuuue.”
He’s just started wearing big boy jocks.
When he wants to leave and go home, he says, “I want to take a blue!” (Or a black, or a white, depending on which sort of taxi he’s in the mood for.)
He loves his yummy yummy (cow’s milk) but also likes the occasional bottle of “new yummy” (hazelnut milk.)
He thinks that parents on the floor are for jumping on, and does so while saying, gobble gobble gobble.
He loves his buddies, (there are four of them, all born within six weeks of each other) and asks to play with them just about every day.
He loves his ibu and asks me every morning, Ibu ‘ming today? (Is ibu coming today?)
He sleeps though the night, though often wakes at five thirty in the morning.
He naps well. We can usually count on two hours. Occasionally three. Sometimes even four. And then, miracle of miracles, he still goes to bed without any trouble at all.
He loves cars. And trains. So much that he’d basically rather play choo-choos than eat cake.
Speaking of cake, he thinks that “birthday” is a word meaning “blow out candles on a cake.”
He’s the friendlies little guy. When visitors come over, he greets them at the door, even grownups, bending forward and saying HELLO!
He loves nail polish. And anything else that belongs to his sister.
He loves his sister’s best friend, like basically more than he loves me.
When I ask him what he wants for dinner, he says “food and rice!”
He sings himself to sleep.
When he wakes up, he says, “Ya-ya. Yaaaaa-yaaa! Nish night-night!” And, occasionally his big sister will take him out of his sleeping bag, help him out of bed and get him out of his diaper.
He’s addicted to his pasci and requires two sercurity blankets for sleeping.
He’s about the most easy going, flexible little guy I know.
He loves being naughty, doing things he knows he shouldn’t. He’s been like this since he first started to crawl.
He cries hard and recovers quickly.
He laughs easily. He tells jokes (his favourite one being pee-pee train. Get it?? Pee-pee train? Instead of choo-choo??? ahahahaha.

This is hilar when you’re two. ;) He is a delight, through and through. Hugo Bear, I do love you.

Hugo at Two