Two years go today we were just meeting you. You were small and wrinkly and had a very pouty lip You loved to sleep (which, thankfully, hasn’t changed). You were wrapped up in a blanket so tight we could have thrown you like a football (but we didn’t!!). You were itty bitty and needed us for everything.
I loved it. I loved sitting with you in the middle of the night. I loved dressing you in teeny little snap-covered clothes. I loved how your feet turned in and your knees were constantly pulled up to your tummy. I loved how you’d sleep with your fingers in your mouth. I loved holding you in one hand while I made lunches with the other. I loved how your brother and sister loved you. I loved watching your daddy wrap you up like a burrito baby. I loved everything about your babyness. You were, after all, my last baby.
Then you sat up and stood and walked and talked and ate real food and I was reminded every day that wherever you’re at it’s just a phase, it won’t last forever and I won’t get it back. So I try to take it in. I try to appreciate you. I’m not great at it, but I do try.
I love you my little man. Happy Birthday!