My baby is three today. How does that happen? You can expect me to ask that every year until he’s 40 I think. By then I may have clued in that he’s pretty much going to keep getting older and bigger and more independent every day no matter how long I insist on referring to him as “my baby.” Don’t worry, I’m trying to spare his psyche by not calling him “my baby” to his face and by telling him how proud I am of how big he’s gotten. And I am. Though is it wrong for me to sort of wish we could just get past this whole potty training thing?
Here was my birthday wish for him last year.
Here was my birthday wish for him the year before.
And back to his original birthday, well, I wasn’t blogging then. I was just getting over feeling like an overstuffed couch cushion for so many months. I was just coming off of spending several months not only feeling like an overstuffed couch cushion but resting on couch cushions day in and day out.
It’s funny because when I want to find a certain post on my blog I do the natural thing and enter some text in my search box up at the right there. Every time I do this I end up getting side-tracked remembering old posts that highlight both bad times and good. My baby’s birthdays are obviously all good memories. As are the few poems for which he was the primary inspiration. Like this one originally posted in March 2007…
We have names for people like you Mr.
Oh yes we do, we do.
We have names for people like you.
Every morning you wake us up
with your made up words…
and we lay laughing in our beds.
We have names for people like you Mr. Baby Head,
like Snaggle Tooth and Shnargly.
We know your type. We’ve warned all our friends about you.
They know what to look out for.The type who climbs into toilet pots,
then squints his eyes and grins from ear to ear.
They know that they must be on guard
or they’ll fall under the spell of the toddling tots.
Because… we know that you know that we know
that there are names for people like you.
Heart breaker, lover boy, sweetie face, Scoopy poo,
lovey dover, baby brother, little clown, baby man…
sweet little boy,
I love you.
And this one from August of 2007…
Baby You Know It!
You just know that I think you’re cute
when you run around in your birthday suit.
I’m pretty sure you’re well aware
of how I’ll laugh when you put food in your hair.
You can read my mind from way down there
as you run by in your brother’s underwear.
You routinely undo me with your pouty lip
as I cuddle you and carry you on my hip.
You know so much, though you’re so small,
Nothing gets past you. Nothing at all.
But do you know this my blessed one?
I’m so thankful God sent you, just one last son.
I love it that blogging has cemented these things with date stamps so that I can go back and be reminded of my feelings about being a mother back then. It’s always interesting to see how we grow and change over time. Whenever I do these searches though they inevitably turn up the less happy things that happened around the same time of year.
While searching for posts about my baby’s birthdays past I happened upon some nearby posts and was struck with all of the feelings I had put forth back then with regards to the untimely death of my brother. And my emotions following that event as well as my pleas to be aware of the problems associated with the cause of his death. Our family has healed much since then… and his children once again have someone that they look up to and call Daddy. God is faithful.
And then, looking further at nearby posts, I realized how often I used to post my poetry! Good night in the morning… I used to post a lot of poetry. This one that I wrote back in 2006 made me laugh today…. and I needed a laugh today. (Have I ever mentioned that teaching people to read is the bane of my existence and what I consider to be a necessary evil in order to get to the fun part of homeschooling? Thus explains my rough morning and why I needed this poem…)
Did You Ever?
Did you ever eat a mud pie,
make your little brother cry,
really try to stick a needle in your eye,
or actually hope to die?
Did you ever use a paper clip to make a fake retainer,
make a hat from a noodle strainer,
wish to be a circus seal trainer,
or purposefully plug up the toilet drainer?
Did you ever on the pavement cook an egg,
think it was cool to have a broken leg,
teach your dog to shake and beg,
or stick on your nose a clothespin peg?
Did you ever fake that you were sick,
cover your nose so you could privately pick,
eat a tube of cherry Chapstick,
or turn the t.v. knob (what’s that?) just to hear it click?
Did you ever make a mask from a grocery bag,
force down a vegetable that made you gag,
love on a blanket until it was a rag,
or cut your own bangs in a scary zig zag?
Did you ever do any of these things? Don’t lie.
Tell the truth as you look me in the eye.
Anything embarassing that makes you want to laugh or cry?
Really? No? That’s funny. Neither did I.
So I sort of have my baby to thank for brightening up my day today. While he is apt to brighten up just about any day (that is when I am not in the throes of potty training woes… ‘nother story for another time!) today just thinking about his birthday made me realize how blessed I am. We are celebrating his birthday tomorrow with a cowboy party. You have to see the invite I made for it. I’m sorta proud of how it came out.
Happy birthday little buddy!