October 6, 2013 by themommahen
I’m late. Eight days late to be exact. My baby turned three last weekend and I didn’t get the obligatory annual blog post up on that day. Surprisingly, I’m okay with that and I don’t think H#3 will have a problem with it either, once he’s old enough to read these embarrassing posts from me.
The key word is obligatory. I had thought about his post all week. While he waited patiently at school with me while I finalized plans for a fundraiser. When I took him and his brother to the doctor with what was diagnosed with croup. When I took him back to the doctor to test him for strep after his sister tested positive. When I took him back to the doctor to be retested for strep after his was negative but his brother’s was positive. While he calmly and willingly took his medicine after we finally got the positive results I knew we were missing.
There’s always a lot going on. Life is always busy. It’s easy to sometimes forget what is obligatory and what isn’t, and then life comes along and reminds you.
A blog post, in the big scheme of things, is not so obligatory. What is? Being in the moment. For the pomp and circumstance. For the ceremony. For the rite of passage. For the candles, the cake and the singing. For my family. For my friends. For myself.
So that’s where I was instead of posting the perfect pictures and coming up with the perfect words for the perfect post.
And it was awesome.
This youngest boy of mine I refer to here as H#3 finally understood what a birthday was. He sang Happy Birthday to anyone and everyone for weeks leading up to his day. He perfected the switch from two fingers to three to let people know how old he was going to be. He ripped paper off his presents with wild-eyed excitement. He squealed over his cake and blew out all his candles. He used the word “mine” a lot.
Just before his birthday, I read a post over at Scary Mommy about having a third child and was amazed at how closely the description of her third child fit mine. I’ve since mentioned it to others who have three (or more) and we’ve all nodded our heads yes, in slight amazement, as we’ve agreed. Maybe there’s something to this whole birth order thing.
So, without further ado, I want to dedicate this post to my newly minted three-year-old. May all our days continue to be graced by your never-ending enthusiasm, two-armed bear hugs, noisy smoochy kisses, excited skip-hop-jumps and gregarious tackles. Happy beginning of your fourth year, baby boy. We’re all so glad you’re part of this family.