Fruit Inspection

Today you are turning 2 years old. I tried to think back to the day you were born, or rather two days before, when the labor actually started, but there’s not much to recall. It was slow and go. Then one really quick, “LET’S GO…NOW!” Then I was blessed with an epidural and there was a lot of waiting around after that.

I do remember the moment the doctor informed me I would not be getting any more medicine in my epidural. Obviously you had made yourself at home in there and were in no hurry to meet us all face to face, but thoughts of your sisters delivery with NO pain medicine started flooding back to me and I was determined that you would be born before those meds were gone. And since I’m your mother, what I say, goes!

And now here you are, 2 years later, still in no hurry to do anything. Except maybe climb on top of the stove while I’m not looking. And when you get caught, because really Son, did you think you wouldn’t (?), you turn on the charm and flash me the cutest grin ever recorded in the book of smiles. This makes disciplining you the hardest part of my day!

But by far the best part of my day are your hugs. A couple of weeks ago you discovered you could escape from the confinement of your crib once finished sleeping. This has been both a blessing and a curse for me. On the one hand, I don’t have to climb the stairs to your room to get you up anymore. We have a ritual. You call my name, over and over, louder and louder. When I’m ready for ya (as in: my running shoes are on and tied) I will call from the bottom of the stairs, “Okay, Buddy, c’mon down!” Then I hear a faint, “Ohhh-taaayyy”.

Then you come running and great me loudly with “Hi Mommy!!!” I meet you halfway up the steps for the biggest and best hug of my day. Then you snuggle up on my shoulder for a few minutes, blankie in one hand, and thumb in mouth. I love that you suck your thumb. I think it’s cute. Your Daddy tells you, “stop suckin’ your thumb, Boy…what are ya, a girl?” (He’s just kidding of course. He only says it to get a reaction out of me!) This is still my favorite picture of you as a baby:

After looking at that picture I guess it’s not fair to call you “my baby boy” anymore. My last baby is growing up. That’s a hard pill for a Mama to swallow. So I won’t dwell on that today…your 2nd birthday. I will cherish every slobbery, snotty kiss that lands directly on my mouth. I will hold you an extra minute when you’ve bumped your head while eating Cheetos and you are clinging tightly to my favorite white shirt with orange fingers. And I will continue to pray that you will one day be the man God created you to be, finding joy in serving Him, and leading your own family according to His Word.

I love you Bubby!