FIVE!


Lights. Bright lights. Oh, no, I'm getting light headed. Push? One more time?! Push, he says. Why is my husband telling me to push? Why doesn't he push? I held my breath and pushed with all my might. "It's a boy!" says my doctor. "Touch him, he's your son." I reach out and touch this slimy little baby. I cannot believe how white he is. I cannot believe I just had a BABY! Oh my gosh!!! We DID IT! We made a baby! Look how beautiful he is! Listen to him cry! I'm crying now. I made life. WE made life. I will never be the same again.




Sleepless nights, rocking in my great great grandmothers rocking chair. Barely awake. Focusing on the sweet sucking of this newborn boy who desperately needs his mommy to survive. Joyful mornings, waking up to crimson cheeks, and pouty lips. Dreadful days, dropping him off at daycare to go to class. Tearful milestones, as he meets, and exceeds each one. Why is this kid on a mission to grow up? Why is time moving so fast?




  



Now he is one. He is walking! He is talking! I made a little man! Wasn't he just a baby? Well, I think I want another one now. Shrieks of excitement as we get ready to welcome his little brother. Broken hearts as I try to wrap my mind around loving another little guy as much as I love this one. Blissful first encounter, as he meets his baby brother. Swollen heart, as I see him take ownership.







Now he is two. "Mommy." He says. He demands things now. He potties on his own. He is a daddys boy, and intelligent like him too. He says funny things. He smiles. He laughs. He is a happy boy.




Now he is three. He has another brother. He is mommys little helper. "I take care of my brother" he says. I answer him with "always" He loves his little brothers. He is wise. He walks with confidence now. He is more inquisitive. He also says he wants to drive a garbage truck. Endless laughs, listening to a 3 year old plan his life out.






Now he is four. I am running out of challenges for him! He needs to start school soon. He plays piano. He reads and he writes. He sings. Oh, how he sings! Where did he get that talent from? Mommy and daddy can't hold a note! He is maturing. He is taking charge. He is growing up.




Now he is five. The world is his oyster. He is moving on to a new phase. Kindergarten. Worries galore, about sending my baby off. Worries cease when he tells me "Mom, its just kindergarten, goodness." Cheeks are still crimson, lips are still pouty, he still needs his mommy, just in different ways. He says to me "Mommy, you take good care of me" I reply, "always"



Happy Birthday to my baby boy. 

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