By 2016, Parth had grown into a lively two-year-old who filled our days with movement, sounds, and little discoveries. He toddled from room to room, opened safe drawers with curiosity, stacked blocks into wobbly towers, and climbed onto low furniture with a proud grin. If we clapped, he clapped back; if we laughed, he laughed louder.
His communication was blooming in small but lovely ways. He pointed to things he wanted, brought toys to show us, and tried to copy simple words and sounds. Sometimes he used a few clear words, other times a mix of babble and gestures, but the intent to connect was always there.
Play was simple and joyful. He pushed cars across the floor, lined them up, dropped balls into boxes just to watch them pop out again, and pretended to feed a toy with the biggest seriousness. With chunky crayons and fat chalk, he made bold scribbles on paper… and yes, sometimes on the wall, too. We learned to keep washable crayons handy! Soft dough became a favorite, squishing, rolling, pressing little shapes with tiny hands.
Music soothed and excited him. Action rhymes on repeat, clapping to a beat, a gentle sway when his favorite tune came on, these moments often calmed the whole house.
Even this young, small preferences began to peek through. He seemed happier in soft, plain clothes and sometimes tugged at itchy tags or very “busy” prints. We also noticed a quiet love for order: returning a toy to the same spot, closing a door he had opened, placing shoes side by side, little rituals that made him feel settled.
At mealtimes he wanted to be part of us, perched on a lap or in his chair, tasting from our plates and beaming when we ate together. Family meals were less about “how much he ate” and more about the comfort of being together.
Looking back, 2016 was a warm, simple season, curiosity, early words, scribbles, songs, and the first hints of the routines that would later matter so much to him. We were savoring our happy toddler, unaware of the questions that would arrive the following year.