I was unloading the dishwasher as he sat on the floor by my feet. "I love you, you're my sweetheart" he said, followed up with the kissy sound. I turned to tell him thank you and meet his kiss. But he wasn't talking to me. He was kissing his big yellow dump truck. I thought it would be really difficult to see my baby grow another year older, but I'm not going to lie, the twos gave me a run for my money. I am enjoying seeing his personality develop, the way he makes sure Jason doesn't leave for work without kissing me, the way he exclaims "your hair!" the minute I pull my bangs back with a bobby pin, the way he insists on putting his pajamas on around 2:00 every day, or the way he is relieved when he sees me getting my pajamas on because he knows I'll be home with him the rest of the night. I still get a little lump in my throat when I see delivery room pictures, and the thought of never holding a newborn baby that is all my own is still something I haven't wrapped my brain around yet. But two days in and I am already liking this three business. He wasn't quite exactly sure what a birthday was. He knew it involved presents. He already found the sand toys hidden in my closet and quietly closed the bathroom door while I was cleaning the shower the other day so that he could sneak downstairs and open them without me knowing. I knew exactly what he was doing, but I let him anyways because he was so excited and because it bought me some quiet cleaning time. It was no surprise that the first thing he wanted to do on his birthday was open presents. He got trucks, cars and more trucks and cars. It's pretty much his world right now. We kept his day real simple, you know, we can't be setting the bar too high now. If he asks then the trip we just came back from was in honor of his birthday. We made rainbow pancakes, Jason took the boys to McDonald's for lunch while Kylie and I alternated between working on his cake and her science fair experiement. For the record, I have never claimed to be a cake decorator. We hung out and played cars, watched movies and had a sausage sizzle for dinner. But my favorite part of the whole day was laying with him in his bed that night. The only sound was the rain outside and the hum of the television downstairs, and a distant siren to which Ryder concluded that someone had broken their leg. I watched as he rubbed the three strands left of his blankie tag across the bridge of his nose, stopping ever so often to spin the wheels on his new tractor. I tickled his tummy and felt the goosebumps across his little belly. I thought about the day he was born and the first time I held him. I almost forgot what he looked like and I made a mental note to look through his baby pictures the next day. It was just a special moment. I am so grateful for this boy in my life and I hope he always knows how deeply he is loved. Happy birthday baby boy.
I realized that without thinking I had put the cars on the Euro side of the road. Not sure what this means...
3 hours ago