He is absolutely, 100%, no doubt about it, in all ways THREE. But part of me can’t see it. As precocious as his babyhood was–walking at nine months, saying things like ‘bulldozer’ before he was 18 months–it is often hard to remember Will as an infant. And yet, he will always be my baby in my mind. I won’t soon forget his birth–the one I did not plan, but that Mark “attended” via his phonecall from Iraq at just the right moment. My big, ten pound, six ounce baby with cheeks that made ‘chubby’ sound svelte. He remains my must-be-bounced-carried-held-don’teventhinkaboutlayingmedown-to-sleep little guy who gave me such great upper body strength, and helped me lose 20 extra pounds while nursing him. 🙂 And my hindsight is perfect when I recall his poor little allergic body (before I gave up dairy)–rubbing his baby legs together to scratch that eczema itch, the night sweats, the back-arching, the baby acne that lasted forever, the troubles with pooping…No, nothing will diminish the memory of that OR my funny, sunny baby with those twinkly brown eyes and constantly revving engine. Not even turning THREE.
Happy Birthday Will!