Sunday, November 13, 2005

Happy Birthday, Max!

My dearest most precious Max,

My first born, my angel , you are still mommy’s baby boy even though you are turning 3 years old today. In so many ways you have been the most life changing experience I have ever known. Even before I was pregnant, I could not wait to meet you. I always knew you were going to come first. A little boy who would teach me more than I could ever imagine teaching you. You came early and I was not ready for you. I cried when the doctor called and told me to go to the hospital. I thought I was supposed to become this super mom before you ever arrived and I knew that my super mom license had not arrived yet. It was a long labor, but well worth it! I eventually had to have a c-section because you had no intention of leaving my warm safe belly. The first thing the doctor said was “It’s a boy… WOW look at that red hair!”

RED HAIR!!! We still have no idea where it came from. The crazy part is that I had a dream a week or so before you were born. It was about a little red haired boy and I thought I was dreaming about your Aunt Al’s baby, because the idea of having a red headed child was just never a thought in my head. Everywhere we go people stop and tell you what a handsome boy you are. You are even more striking when you are in the company of your brother. The two of you turn heads and bring smiles everywhere you go.

Three years old! My heart is already bursting with love and memories. I just don’t know how it can grow any larger…. But at the same time I cannot wait for more! You are so different from me and yet sometimes it is like I am looking in a mirror. You are an exact carbon of your daddy. I tell people all the time that other than carrying you for 9 months, I had very little to do with your genetic make-up. That is of course until your perform your infamous, incredibly dramatic temper tantrums. You first try to reason with me and explain why what you want is really the best idea. When I disagree, you then become firm, and demand that it be done your way or the highway. When you realize I am not only your superior officer, but one tough cookie, you melt into a blob of goo on the floor, begging and pleading with me as we gently walk over to the naughty wall to reflect on the past few minutes and why we didn’t get our way. It is a performance that only your mother could love, mostly because it is exactly how she has performed on many occasions.

You are going to be an engineer… I just know it. You don’t really play with toys. You spend most of your time figuring out how it works and why we should play with it in the first place. You insist on doing everything yourself, which I must admit, you actually do very well 90% of the time. When you can’t get something to work, it must be broken.

You worship your brother and he worships you. We are so blessed that from the 1st time you met Ben, you genuinely thought mommy and daddy made him for your entertainment. You are so protective of him. You don’t like it when he cries and try to move Heaven and Earth to get him to stop. On many occasions you have climbed into his crib just to get closer to him.

And all of a sudden you have become quite the snuggle bunny with me, and I am LOVING IT!!! Even when you were born, you already had a strong neck and looked around at everything. You used to try to climb up and out of my arms so you could see what was going on, Mr. Independent. But lately you have become very attached to me. Lots of love, lots of kisses, lots of snuggling on the couch watching Rolie Polie Olie. You give me kisses for my pocket and we exchange kisses for under our pillows. When I do not get home until late, you beg for daddy to let you sleep on my side of the bed until I get home. Then I lift you up, hold you tight and whisper my parting ritual, “I love you, I’ll see you in the morning, I miss you already”.

I love you, baby boy… more than you will ever know……Happy Birthday!


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