Christian is 3.
Wow. We did some serious celebrating. Cousins, Courtney and Carter came with Grandma Nancy for their big days. We were happy to have them and the kids were sad to see them go. The kids were really sad to see grandma go. Sometimes it takes Christian awhile to realize that someone has left. So the day after grandma left, he was a little sad. He insisted on calling her. So we called. The conversation went something like this:
Christian: Damma, did you go home?
Gma: Yes, I had to come back to Papa.
Christian: I miss you. I want you to come back.
Gma: Why do you want me to come back Christian?
Christian: Because I love you Damma, and you forgot your bra.
It was pretty funny. Humor aside, he did indeed miss his damma (not to be confused with damn-ma).
He is a sweet boy.
Though, he has not been only sweet lately.
He has had some..."moments". You know, the times when you have to stop and tell yourself all the reasons you don't want to sell him to the gypsies. But the other night he was the last to fall asleep (which his sister has on him 90% of the time). He snuck to the edge of him room and asked me to come tickle his back. Yes, I have created a monster. His preferred way of falling asleep is, like his dad with soft tickles on the skin, not over clothes of his back.
There are a handful of nights that I promise to return after a minute to conclude the tickles, knowing he will be fast asleep when the dishes are done. Not this night. I laid down on his toddler bed with him and tickled his back while he jabbered off never-ending stories to me. He finally finished his elaborate tale and said, "I wuv you mom."
Well, Christian, I love you too. I get sad thinking about the days this kid won't be a toddler anymore. I am sure his life to come will be wonderful. I just want to freeze him as he is right now, because I love him.
The sweet sound of his voice brings a smile to any strangers face. I am tempted to keep a voice recorder on him. He shows the most genuine joy over simple things. We could have given him a piece of paper for his birthday, with nothing on it and there would have been joy. He has a friend with a nickname of BoBo, which has now turned into a term of endearment at our house. It is completely promoted by his uncle dog as together they call each other bobo-heads. There is always at least two pairs of shoes in our car due to his dislike for having them on his feet. He is brave and daring. When he does something wrong, the first thing he does is comes to me and says sorry (before he tells me what he's done). While I was writing this he did that exact thing. It is impossible for him to tell a lie if you sing the song, "I told the TRUTH". What a boy. He's hard not to love.
So here's to you buddy. Happy Birthday!