things that make two

a few weeks back, my daughter turned two. in the blink of an eye and the pinch of a cheek, she could speak words that were - though incomprehensible to others - strings of pure wisdom and maturity to me. her first word other than papa and mama was "duck." she calls everything that she declares as fun a duck. hence, it was my responsibility to ensure that she had a duck-filled party. i spent days hand stitching felt wristlets for her little friends, i slaved for hours painting the duck bags with witty (or so i hoped) minimalism, i made a friend help me assemble the duck cake created to resemble the character i drew for her since the day she first said "duck." sure, i could've ordered a bunch of customizable products online, but i, for some reason, had the innate desire to be as great a mom as i could be. perhaps it was the fact that she was growing up too fast, perhaps it was my constant need to please everybody, perhaps i just had to find a way - or in this case, many ways - to let her know how much i love her. and i do. i've loved her through the long, tedious nights. i've loved her through the bright smiles. i've loved her through the painful bounces on my recently traumatized belly, i've loved her through it all. 

in the midst of singing happy birthday to her, i choked up. i could do everything else, but i wasn't ready to sing happy birthday to her. you'd think that as a parent, you'd embrace the constant growth of your child, or at least be able to sing a simple childhood tune that beckons many slices of cake. but no. as a parent, you'd choke up. you'd choke up and feel an overwhelming need to stop that growth, the one that will eventually, inevitably, inconspicuously push the child you once held in the palms of your hands, into adulthood. and as a parent, you'd feel lost.

but this isn't about me. no, this is about my daughter. she is now two. next year, she will be three. and as the numbers grow larger, i will count each one with her, and i will grow with her, and i will learn with her, from her. and even when she no longer needs me to count alongside her sweet voice, i will count forever. because no amount of numbers or ducks could show her just how much i love her.