Baby Beckham's 2

My little man is another year older. It is hard to believe that two years ago today, I gave birth to an almost nine pound child...my uterus and bladder haven't been the same since.
The poor child began his existence nameless. For the first week of his life his daddy and I bounced names back and forth waiting for one to stick, but to no avail. Finally inspiration struck, in the form of Emily Dean, who suggested the name Beckham, and finally our baby boy was named...after a freakin' super uber hottie soccer player with a British accent...swoon, swoon. Uh-hum, where were we? Oh, and finally our baby boy had a name. I cannot imagine him being called anything else. Fittingly, the child has had an infatuation with balls of all sorts since birth. And yes, the poor child will play soccer. It seems a little sac-religious to have him play anything but.
It is difficult to imagine life without this fair-haired, blue-eyed angel boy. Granted, he doesn't always act like an angel, like when he hits, bites or block-clocks the kiddies in the nursery, but he does have plenty of tender moments, like when he climbs up on my lap and tells me "I love you much", or when he tells me "by you me", which translates to "come sit by me", or when he jumps on my head and "lick/kisses" me.
In a nutshell, life with Beckham has been joyful. I realize how quickly he'll grow up. Until then I will enjoy him for what he is...a pleasant, yet occasionally moody two year old boy, who loves cars, dinosaurs, and action figures. I look forward to at least a few more years of "I love you much's" and "by you me's" and "lick/kisses" and I'll be sure to savor each one, for I know that soon enough they will not be given as freely as they once were.
But, no matter how old and cool you get, little Beck's, I will always love you...I will always love you much.