My “baby” boy turned 3 today. Can I tell you how sad that makes me? We still call him the “little bitty dude.” I suppose we always will. But honestly he’s not so little bitty anymore. Well, he’s tall, anyway.
“They” say every kid is different. “They” are right. With Stella, everything was so new and almost raw. Some of this was exacerbated by some of the extra challenges we’ve had – and continue to have – with her. Felix has been my “easy” kid. Some of that is legit and some of it is that he was lucky (?) enough to be born into a house in which someone had already at least partially blazed the trails and broken in the parents. Or maybe just broken the parents. Either way, Felix has always seemed my more mellow, easy-going fellow.
He’s sweet. He’s silly. He’s obnoxious sometimes. He’s getting into that goofy boy phase where he just loves you so much he’s got to smack you on your face while making some sort of primal growling sound. He’s started to fake illness when he’s upset. I get a lot of *cough cough – pause – cough cough.* If the appropriate response is not forthcoming, he helpfully points out “I coughing, mama.” You know, just in case I missed it. He was having an enormous tantrum the other day and began to utilize the fake screaming sneeze. I want to say it’s because I took away some watermelon he was pulverizing all over the kitchen. He ran through the house screaming “Achoo! ACHOO! ACHOO!” You can’t help but laugh. That, of course, irritates him and makes him fake scream sneeze even harder. Will gets worried and think it’s some kind of Munchhausen crap. I recognize it as silliness. We’ll see who’s right (hint: it’s going to be me).
In any case, today I dedicate to my little bitty dude. I hope he always knows how much he’s loved. Hell, I hope both of my children know how much they’re loved, and that they come out of this childhood thing remembering that they were not loved the same, but they were loved equally and fiercely.