Three Years Later...

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Tonight, I put you to sleep for the last time as a two year old. You asked me to stay and snuggle with you.  And with your daddy gone, I obliged because for that minute the world stopped.  I asked you questions and your answers got quieter and by the end of that minute, or two or three, I knew you were ready to go to sleep. 

Tomorrow, when you wake you will be three. I know that really doesn't mean a lot to you.  Heck, you are almost three years old. You pretty much concern yourself with trucks, chocolate milk and The Lorax at this point not how old you are going to be tomorrow. 

But for me tonight, I sit here on the new couch in our new house and I think about how much you have grown in three years.  The person you are becoming, the changes you have made and even the little things that have stayed the same. 

Three years later, you still want me to carry you like a baby to bed. 

Three years later, you play a musical instrument every morning on the way to school and remind me to play mine- You the strum your guitar and tell me to play my trumpet as we listen to country music.

Three years later, you tell us that you want to snuggle in our bed in those early morning minutes when you wake refusing to accept no for an answer.   

Three years later you are predictable like me- asking for a drink the minute we walk in the door and telling me you don’t like jeans every morning as you get dressed.

Three years later, I look in my rear view mirror when I am driving and when I catch your eyes we both smile- easily, without hesitation. 

Three years later you are silly with your sister and can make her laugh just by talking to her and she can make you mad just by sitting next to you. 

Three years later, I see myself in you.  You don't wake up well. You tell us to go away once we get you situated with Disney Junior and juice each morning.  I don't blame you buddy...mornings are rough. 

Three years later, I see your daddy in you.  You are a master negotiator.  When we tell you it is time to go to bed, you ask for five more minutes and we say one and you usually respond with two more minutes and then proceed to tell us that you will watch for two more minutes, okay? 

Three years later, I am prouder than ever to be your mama!

Happy Birthday Buddy Boy! I love you to the moon and back!

My Kid Hates Cake- One Year

So, he's one. Yep, one year old. A toddler. No longer a baby.

And me? Well, I am struggling with it. Anyone who knows me would tell you that my memory rocks! Seriously, I can tell you what I wore to work a month ago or I can tell you the name of every teacher I have every had. I can tell you about parties, events, days and names from 15 years ago like they were yesterday. That is why mom calls once a day and says, "Do you remember the name of..." and I happily oblige and answer. I am weird like that or in Glenn's opinion nuts.

And as I am remembering the past 365 days, I find myself oddly nostalgic for what the past year has been, what the past year represents, and the moments that have quickly transformed themselves into memories already. I remember everything about 10.19.09 @ 10:03am. . I reminisce in my own head about little moments that mean nothing to anyone but me. I remember days, nights, and noises. And, I would do every single moment of it again.

I struggle as I watch Brady's independence shine through and his personality resonate at dinner time. Notice, he is not amused. We tried cake 4 times in 4 days and guess what, he never changed his opinion. He spit out the cake, the frosting or both every single time. That tells me he is mine since sweets are not my thing either.


You know what else tells me he is mine? He is a busy body. Ask anyone who has been around him lately. He busies himself with things for hours on end. And you know what else? He LOVES to be outside. He actually brings Glenn his shoes in the morning because he wants to be outside. That is my kid outside mastering the game of bags.

The shoes below? A subtle yearly reminder of how much he grows and we change. Next year I have a feeling I will look at my Toms and think they were so last year. And those Pedipeds will be a thing of the past. And those baby shoes consumed by our big people shoes will grow and get closer to ours in size. And as I type this, I am already thinking how sad I will be the day his shoes will be bigger than mine.

And my family, well I love them. My boys and I on a gorgeous fall day where we sang Happy Birthday to a brown hair, bright blue eyed boy named Brady who is still my baby.

And, a birthday post is coming. I swear. The blog has been neglected and probably will continue to be because Uncle Todd and Aunt Christy are gettin' married next weekend!