He was already late, weeks late, and I was getting anxious to see this little guy. Every day I tried a new method to get him to come on out from his cozy little home he'd made himself. I tried walking around the neighborhood and even the halls of my own house late into the night. I bounced on an exercise ball for hours. I tried herbal pills and drank Castor Oil. Spicy foods and stripping of the membranes made the list also. I tried it all, even sex. He was a stubborn little shit to say the least. I never had one single contraction that I felt.
My plan was to have him at home and I was so excited at the prospect of not having to be in a hospital. Everything was ready for him at home, we had our plan all set up and ready to put it into action.
But the funny thing about plans? Sometimes they fall by the wayside. My youngest son's birth was the exact opposite of my plan. I had drugs that I didn't want. I was cut up instead of using my body to deliver him and I definitely didn't plan on spending four of the longest ever days in a hospital.
My son is two years old today, February 2, and ya know what? The waiting and plan changes and the new scars on my body are so not even important. The cool thing about being a Mom is that all the bad, icky stuff you kind of forget about when this little life with 10 fingers and 10 toes and a hearty scream is introduced to you.
The last two years have flown by so fast that I can hardly believe the changes my little man has made. He talks in sentences and can count to ten almost without messing up. He knows a few colors and just learned how to put his own shoes on yesterday. He loves to be tickled and play peek-a-boo. His book of choice right now is "The Best Mouse Cookie". He asks for it almost every single night. "Mouse Cookie", he says repeatedly until he's got his little hands on the book. "That's Not My Dragon" is another favorite. And many others that fill his bookshelf. He asks to see his Grandma, Papa, Grammy and Pappy on a regular basis. He knows his Grandparent's houses and lights up when he sees that we are visiting. He has never met a stranger in his life and says hi to almost everyone. His meltdowns are of epic proportions and the tears are fatter than ever. But the hugs are forthcoming and the kisses are sweet, even though he sometimes sticks his tongue out.
He always says "Me pat you" when it's time to go to bed because he wants me to pat him. "Me rock you" is often another request. He asks "Are you hungry?" when he wants to tell me that he's hungry. He requests "something else" all time after he's eaten one thing and is ready for another. He frequently wears his mommies shoes and I frequently take pictures of him wearing his mommies shoes. He blows kisses and makes a really loud "Muuuuuuuuuuaaaaaahhhhh" sound that I adore.
He hates when I brush his teeth and loves to chew on the toothbrush. He watches the movie "Cars" over and over and over again. He loves to be stark naked and run around the house yelling "Me running!". Slides are one of his favorite outdoor toys and he's never met a bouncy ball he didn't love. He sometimes cries for a balloon when we are at the grocery store and on the occasion that he gets a balloon he always tries to lick it. He's got his own 'chapstick' that he puts on all by himself and only occasionally does he attempt to eat it, but only after he's applied large amounts on his cheeks and up his nose.
He's just a cool ass kid and I'm so privileged to be his mom, to call him my son. When he smiles at me and kisses me and realizes that I'm laughing because he made me laugh, my heart swells and my chest puffs out and I know that I am one lucky lady.
Happy second birthday my little Bobee. You own a part of my heart and I'm glad that someone decided to let me be your mom. I sure did luck out.