Have taught me how to love. Have helped me to be less selfish. Have made me proud.
Ruby is 2 yesterday. With excitement I said to her, “Happy Birthday Ruby,” and she grinned and mirrored me and said, “Happy Birthday, Daddy.”
She’s cute. Ruby, you’re 2. You’re talking more prodigiously than your brother, asking achingly sweet questions like, “Where are we going, daddy,” or “What was that funny noise.” You’re more content than Jack was to be left alone. Less active, just taking things in.
You still like your mom best, but you have plenty of time for me. This morning you sat in my lap and ate cheerios and commanded me to “play peek-a-boo.”
You ask for what you want and are showing cleverness both linguistically and in other ways. You smile at everyone.
You can recite the alphabet, you sing nursery rhymes and kid songs (rain Rain, go away little RUBY wants to PLAY).
You like looking at and doing what Jack does. He’s a close second in your life. When Jack stays with my parents your first question when you wake up is “where did jackie go?” Jack has been the best big brother to you, whenever you cry (not much) he brings you a stuffed dog, and is very empathetic. How he treats you makes me very proud. It’s no wonder you like him. I hope that that lasts.
You both have made me a better person. Less Asperger’s, more kind. I love you so much for that.
Happy Birthday, Ruby
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