Thursday, March 26, 2015


I wonder...

Would you be the fearless little boy who bravely ventures off into the world, trying to keep up with your sister and brothers? Or would you keep close by, tucking behind my legs as you peek out into the great world?

Would you be quiet, with just a few words like your speech-delayed brothers at this age? Maybe, somehow you would be the loudest of our children speaking non-stop?

Curly blond hair like your Dad as a child? Light brown straight hair similar to the others?

Would you sleep alone all night, or would I hear the thud and patting of your feet as you shuffle into my room at 3am...

Would you sneak all sorts of junk food with Ryan? Or only eat healthy foods like Caroline?

Would I hear you slide down the stairs on your belly while I cook dinner? Perhaps you would have been cautious and called for help stranded at the top of the stairs.

Maybe you would have been out of diapers for more than a year already, like your siblings. Or would you have been the one to go at your own pace?

3 means throwing shoes out of car windows as you drive down the road. you know, just cause you can.

3 means finding your voice and using it a lot. with awkward questions about people you pass in the grocery store or see at the Y. As a parent it means holding my ground longer than before as I wait your tantrum out because you don't want to put your socks on.

3 means playing organized t-ball and soccer for the first time. Getting your very own uniform t-shirt just like your older siblings and being so proud of it.

3 means preschool. Actual "big kid" school. Where you proudly waddle through the door with a backpack that is almost as long as you are tall.

3 means wanting to do everything on your own. Saying you don't need help, and moving slow as molasses to buckle your own seat belt or carry that bag of groceries into the house.

It means a big-kid bike with training wheels and giving that tricycle to a "little" kid in some other family.

3 means you are growing up. Except for you this year on your birthday you aren't. Your absence is noted completely.

Would you like oatmeal for breakfast like Ryan? Toast like Jackson? Or strawberries in your cereal like Caroline?

Most days I function and thrive quite well. That doesn't mean I long for your less. But now that most days are the good days, when I pause to appreciate my reality...that I birthed you and watched your body fail you unbelievably takes my breath away.

So 3 years old is coming up. How the hell have I survived these 3 years? And how the hell am I so happy now? Mostly...  That's a miracle maybe you orchestrated. Shout out to you.