Almost Two

As I'm sure I've mentioned on this blog a time or twenty, Benjamin, my baby is almost two years old. He's smart and happy and cute. He's mischievous and gets into trouble. Right now he has a bruise on his cheek, another on his forehead, and yet another on his chin. The cheek and forehead came when he tried to ride his Choo Choo ride on toy down.the.stairs. (I've tried the baby gate approach, but he climbs over it.) The chin was last night when he was climbing out of his brother's bed and bumped it on the way down.

Ben climbs onto the bathroom sink and turns on the water. When I rush to go get him down he looks at me like "what???" and says "teeeeeeth" and shows me his toothbrush.

Ben is in a toddler bed far before Mommy was ready (last kid should stay in the crib til their 3 at least I figured) because he wouldn't stay in the bed anyway, so we thought at least in a big boy bed he wouldn't harm himself. Although he never got hurt climbing out of the crib, but I knew the day would come.

Ben has been escaping into the garage for quite some time now. He's been able to open doors since we moved into this house. We tried door handle locks, but he just broke through them, so we started locking the door leading to the garage. Today, he unlocked that door. This is terrifying to me.

Ben has decided it is time to go pee pee in the potty. He's not potty trained by any stretch, but at every diaper change, and other random times, he'll announce "PEE PEE" and run to the little potty chair. He actually does pee, which is pretty amazing in my book.

I know I am still that mom that gushes over every little thing her baby does. It's probably annoying. You'd think after 3 other kids going through the same stages that I would be less amazed by every little thing. Somehow, it's every bit as incredible the fourth time around.

Ben in Washington DC in May (I think) of 2007, only a few months old.

Ben on Thanksgiving entertaining everyone.

Last night "reading" when he should have been sleeping.

Do You Ever Wonder?

Do you ever, as a parent, sit there and say what if I'm WRONG? Last night I told Eric to quit snacking as it was almost dinner time. I took away the bag of cereal he was munching on and Kevin heard him say something smart back. We asked him several times to repeat and he would not tell us. We asked still more times and he mumbled something about chicken nuggets. Which I'm pretty sure is not what he actually said. Mind you, neither of us heard the precise words that came out of his mouth, but rather the tone and attitude with which it was said. Pretty sure it was something cranky toward me. Pretty sure. Not positive. Keeping in mind this is not the child who usually lies. Also keeping in mind that this is the child that rarely gets into trouble. So he was sent to his room until he would tell us the truth. He kept making stuff up but never came out with what we think he might have said.

SO he had to go to bed. Without dinner. Which I hate as a punishment because I knew he was HUNGRY and what if he can't sleep because he's hungry and ohhhhh the angst it causes me. I will tell you that by the look on his face and his demeanor and putting two and two together that I am 95% certain that he was lying. It's that little smidge of doubt that had me so ill at ease. What IF I was wrong. Will he be scarred for life? I'm pretty sure he won't because he's his happy go-lucky self today. But maybe?

I've said it before and I know I'll say it again. This parenting gig is hard. I feel often like I'm guessing my way through and hoping against hope that my children end up being good, successful adults and that I don't somehow mess them up along the way.

So, there's my insecure I don't really have a freaking clue what I'm doing confession for the day. Sigh.

Happy Birthday Eric

Six years ago today I became a new mommy for the very first time. I had waited quite some time for this milestone and felt so many things. Joy, excitement, and pure fear were among them. Holding my new little boy for the first time was enthralling. I didn't want to put him down. I had no idea until that moment how much love bringing a baby into the world would place in my heart. That love grows every single day.

Now that itty bitty baby boy is six. He can run, and read, and write. He can carry on a pretty grown up conversation too. He is big!! He is still my baby. Sometimes he still comes and sits in my lap and says "I love you mom." Not too long ago when Ben was up in the night I noticed Eric was sideways in bed, so I moved him and retucked him in. He snuggled in under the covers and with a sweet smile whispered, "thanks momma." He may be big, but he'll always be my little boy.

I can't believe it's been six years. It doesn't feel like much time has passed at all. I can't remember much about life without Eric without thinking really hard about it. I wouldn't trade one minute of my life now for that life.

I love you Eric, Happy Birthday!