Munchkin man turned two last Thursday. I just… yeah. Still speechless over this fact. He is an amazing boy, such a joy. He is cuddly and loving and smart and silly and wow, does he keep us running. He’s always moving, always doing something. He is very self-aware, and loves his “kitty brother.” He gives awesome kisses and when we’re in the grocery store and I’m struggling with the self-scan checkout line and the register is misbehaving and one of the people has to keep coming over to allow me to continue to ring up our groceries, he loves to pull on my arm and pull me in with both hands so he can just hug and hold on and not let go. I’m still in awe of the fact that he’s ours. I don’t need to give him back. I get to keep him. He’s ours. He’s half me, half hubby, and we don’t have to give him back. I had always dreamed of this day – the day that some little one would yell for me – “Mommy!!” – while I was still getting out of the shower in the morning, before it was time to get up, before the day had even begun – and I’d be happy and more-than-willing to go gather this sweet-smelling boy from his bed and kiss his still-warm cheeks and just live in the moment. I need to remember that he’s not little for long… to live in the moment. To enjoy the time we have while we have it, because, cliché or not, he’s only little once, and it won’t be for long. To put down the electronics and play with the trains and make silly pictures and paint without worrying about getting dirty and dig in the sandbox and splash in the “cuddles” – the puddles – because it makes him happy. This love I feel for someone so small, so tiny, yet oh-so-big in personality and generosity – he gives me his favorite train to play with! – and kindness and love – this love I feel is boundless. It is never-ending. It is amazing, and makes my heart pound and skip a beat… literally. Who knew that the dreams I had years, years ago, would come to fruition in such an amazing way? This boy stole my heart just over two years ago, and has relentlessly held onto it since – and I’m okay with that. He’s my little man, my sunshine, my “babyman,” my munchkin, my monkey. He is my world. Happy birthday, monkey man.
Welp. My baby man turned ONE a couple weeks ago.
He started out like this.
Moved to this.
And now is this.
I don’t know how time has gone by so quickly.
It’s surreal, and somewhat bittersweet. I love the boy he has become, so inquisitive, so smart. He’s always asking “What’s that?” and pointing at things. I think it’s a preclude to him asking “Why?” at everything. I’m okay with that. It means he’s learning.
Pre-baby-man: our lives were relatively quiet; we would spend our evenings reading or playing video games, occasionally meeting up with friends. We’re both home-bodies, so we were perfectly content not doing much outside of the house. Our evenings were quiet, and we were okay with that.
After baby-man: we don’t often go out. Our evenings are only quiet after 7:45pm, which is the bedtime of said baby-man. We eat dinner and play, and then after he has bathtime, he sleeps. He sleeps easily and well. His latest thing is attempting to dive into the crib so he can lay down and snuggle his bear, waiting for his blanket to cover him, ready to sleep.
But I digress.
After baby-man: we don’t often go out. It’s actually rather rare. But we’re okay with that. (See Pre-baby-man for explanation.) We still read or catch up on our shows (though “catch up” is now the operative term; it’s rare that we catch them on the night – or the night after, to be honest – they originally air), and we have our together-time. It’s different, but a good different.
“Logan, come give Momma kisses.” Baby-man toddles over (yes, toddles – he’s walking!), open-mouthed and ready to kiss Momma. Usually a big grin is hulking behind the open-mouthed kisser, and after the “kiss,” he runs away. Yes, he runs, too.
The first year has been amazing. It has been crazy (we bought our first house in January), wonderful, and difficult. But who said raising a child was easy??
We have an amazing little boy, and a fabulous family. We’re incredibly happy, smooshed in there with a whole lotta tired. But it’s a good tired.
And we wouldn’t have it any other way.
Logan and Momma pumpkin picking!
Logan and Daddy watching the Patriots!
In two weeks and two days I’ll be thirty.
I’m starting to panic.
For you thirty may not be so bad, but for me, it’s terrifying.
I’m not a fan of birthdays that start with a 3.