We welcomed you to our family 2 years ago. And like your brother, you didn’t want to come ‘the right way’. So after a long labour you arrived in the operating theatre, blue and floppy. You weren’t breathing…for a whole minute (we have it on film). My stubbornness could have meant we lost you.
Daddy was worried, I was passing out. But the amazing team got you going and you started using your lungs…and haven’t stopped.
I want to tell you things I have learnt in the last 2 years that I love about you:
I love the way you always want to be held. You just need to be cuddled. Every night. About 10pm…until 5.30am. You just need to be close.
I love the way you eat all your food. Never scared to try new things. You copy the word then shove it in your mouth. Barely spitting it out.
I love the way you know all the words to KISS. You want that damn dvd on daily, sing along, guitar in hand. My little rock star!
I love the way you paint. It ends up everywhere, walls, chair, your belly, your mouth. But the way you do it with gusto, I can’t stop that.
I love that you have no fear. You are always willing to jump head first off the couch, climb up anywhere, run in zigzag commando lines, and find ways to get higher using chairs and footstools, turning on lights or opening the front door…It doesn’t give me mild heart attacks at all.
I love your smile, giggle and cheeky grin. You are probably up to something naughty 95% of the time, but you do it with a smile.
I love that you love to annoy your brother. You do it well. He does love you. Just stop throwing his things behind the couch or under the bed…
You are a determined clever little guy. We had our struggles in the first year, and I’m sorry I wasn’t totally present then, mentally and emotionally. But we finally bonded, got some sleep and have enjoyed the last 12 months.
I still can’t believe you turn 2 tomorrow. I’m one proud mummy.
I love you lil man.