2 years old

You turned two a couple of weeks ago, on Christmas Eve; that’s how late I am with this letter. In my defense, I have been very busy with pursuits that put food on the table, on your table, so you can eat. I know you’d rather eat than to have a promptly delivered 2-year letter, which you probably won’t even read until you’re at least 20. Why do I know you’d rather eat? Your appetite has increased to unspeakable proportions in the last couple of weeks, since you’ve turned two. You went from never asking for food to sidling up to me every 30 minutes (I kid you not!) with a ravenous look, pleading with your charming Hungarian word: “HAMMM!!!” It reminds me of Oliver Twist pleading: “More, please!!!

But getting back to the month before you turned two. Firstly, let it be known that in your 24th month of life, you began to call me and your Dad not only “Mama” and “Daddy” but also Mommy, Mummy, MOM and DAD! I have no idea where you picked up these shortened versions, normally not uttered by very young children, except for the fact that you do like to simplify things and thus make your life easier, your speech more succinct. I wouldn’t be surprised if you came up with Mom and Dad entirely on your own, in your quest to be concise, never having heard it anywhere before. (You might make a good dictionary editor one day.) When I hear you call me MOM, I often want to ask: “Just how old are you?” To this, you would grin, show two fingers on both hands and shout: “TWOOOOOO!”

You do this now all the time, except for a brief one-week period coinciding with Christmas at your grandparents’, where I was eager to show off this adorable cuteness. You had been saying it for a month, but a few days before our trip, what do you know, your Daddy decided to teach you ALL OF THE ENGLISH NUMBERS with corresponding fingers, and after this you decided that, actually, you liked to show the numbers 5 and 1 much better than 2. So anytime I asked you your age at your grandparents’ your reply of “TWO!” was accompanied with a showing of 5 fingers, or sometimes 1. (Arrgh!)



Honestly, I can’t blame your Dad entirely for this, because a few days before Christmas, just as I discovered that you are unable to show me two fingers anymore as you tell me your age, and was scratching my head about this, I sat down with you to watch an old episode of Sesame Street. Immediately, a light was shed on the mystery, as the cute little Sesame Street character was unable to match the pronounced numbers with his displayed fingers, saying FIVE when showing THREE fingers, and ONE when showing FOUR, etc.

Why the creators of Sesame Street in 1975 thought that confusing a generation of children about their numbers would be funny, I’ll never know. But I’ll venture to guess they didn’t actually know any toddlers. You know, the real live kind. The kind that soak up, like a sponge, absolutely everything they see and hear. Like wrong fingers displayed with the wrong numbers. And the kind that, come Christmas 2008, will now be unable to display the proper fingers with the proper number when it’s time to show off their knowledge to the grandparents. Very funny, indeed!

There are other cute things you say. When I ask you “Who loves you?” you say, “Mama.” Then I ask, “Who else?” and you answer, “Daddy.” When I prod you for a third time, “Who else?” you shout “GOD!” while pointing at the ceiling. When I ask you, “Where is God?” you quietly answer, “Heaven.” This is good enough material for video, but of course, you never want to say any of this when I bring out the video.

There are so many other things I could recount, if I had all day. Let me just say that you delight and amaze us every day. Whether you’re locking me out of the house when I take out the trash (no worries; I had my keys with me!), or obsessively turning on the oven light every time you pass by the kitchen, or taking all of your toys into the bathroom when you potty, or hugging and kissing us at random throughout the day, or making mischievous (kópé!) faces with your eyes looking off to the side just to make us laugh, or singing at the top of your lungs when you watch your shows, when you bathe, or just about anytime, using anything you can get your hands on to pretend it’s your microphone, one thing is certain: you make our lives brighter with your presence. We thank God for you every day. We love you more today than we did the day you were born. We're so blessed that you are part of our family. Happy birthday, Cakes!!

Love,

Mama (Mommy, Mummy, MOM) and Daddy (Dada, DAD)