Before you were born, you did not move in the womb much, and it scared me. Hubby would come home from work, while I was on bed rest and jostle my "tummy," so we could feel you move. I dreamt you would be born with brown hair and brown eyes. Imagine my surprise, when you were born and you had the finest sheen of blond hair on your head. The nurses in the hospital kept coming in my room, just to see the blond baby. "Most blond babies are born bald," they exclaimed!
You were reluctant to be born. I had to be induced at 37 weeks, and you just were not ready to join the world yet. The nurses in the room kept exclaiming, "Well, he's just hanging up there in North Alabama!" When you finally were born, we were all shocked at how big you were. My biggest baby at 7 pounds 15 ounces, but you were only 19 inches so you looked chunky. My OB said, "Thank goodness we took him early. If not, you may have had a 10 pounder on your hands!"
When I looked at your tiny face for the first time, I cried so hard.
I did not ever want to let you go. But, that's a parent's job, right? To prepare a child and send him off into the world.
And you grew. You became a chunky baby, who wasn't interested in crawling or walking. You scared us by not really talking much until you were almost two and half. Why should you? You had a brother who would do all that for you!
You were always a good sleeper, until you hit about 18 months. We had to move you from your crib earlier than expected, because of the impending arrival of your little sister. You had a hard time adjusting outside of the crib. You began crawling into our bed at night, and at first we didn't mind because you would lay perfectly still on your tummy, bum in the air, right in between us. You were so sweet and cuddly.
The years went by. You turned two, and you potty trained easily. I didn't do much, and it became apparent early on that you would be night trained early too. By two and a half you were no longer wetting your pull up at night, and you stopped wearing them. You had one accident, maybe two, and that was it.
You continued to look mostly like Daddy. We received (and still do) comments that you look like an elf, with your cute little ears that stick out from the side of your head!
I dreaded the impending arrival of your third year. I like to call the third year, the year from hell in childhood. Seriously, I think it is the hardest year for all kids. You took it like a champ though, and had minimal meltdowns. You did learn the fine art of whining. You also became obsessed with Lightning McQueen, and you still are. You have Mommy's penchant for obsession (passed down to her from Big Daddy).
You amazed me, because I didn't teach you that much, and one day you sat in the car counting to 20 for me. Then you recognized all the alphabet, and I thought, "Son Number Two can learn things on his own. He picks up on things. He "gets" it."
And now you are four. You are funny, silly, and a little lazy! You like to be a couch potato, watching TV with your blue blanket and zooming Lightning McQueen on the floor. You are so excited about your birthday! Last night, you showed your babysitter your "cake," still in the box! I love how the smallest things can make you say "Yay," in your squeaky little voice. I love the mischievous look in your eyes. I love how you and Son Number One would do anything for each other, even though occasionally I have to pull each of you off each other other screaming. I love everything about you.
Next year you will embark on preschool. You will meet new children, you will learn new things. You will begin to be prepared to go to elementary school the following year. You will be the best you can be. I can't wait to see where you go, Son Number Two! I love you with my whole heart!
Aww thanks! I like writing them. :-)
ReplyDeleteI love your b-day posts! :)
ReplyDelete