Tuesday, February 12, 2013

To George


To my younger son, my beloved Georgie,

Happy birthday (last month!)! You're a toddler now, a whole year old and exploring everything on foot. I can scarcely believe it. You are a little man with a lively personality, and we all delight in you. You love your grandparents, bananas, music, dancing, bath time, pasta, your crib soother, dogs, being outside, and most especially playing with your bubby Silas. Sometimes all you want is snuggles with your daddy, and you have been that way from the start. You play lots of flirty games with strangers in restaurants, and you laugh out loud when tickled and chased. You refuse to be read to, much to your daddy's and my chagrin. You say words like mama, dada, bubba, nana (banana), and dog. You strongly shake your head "no" when that is your preference.  In your first year of life, you have visited Massachusetts twice, New Hampshire, Colorado, Kansas, Missouri, Illinois, and Indiana. Your mommy and daddy have lots of travels planned for you, including another trip to Massachusetts with tickets already purchased. Still to come someday are California, Minnesota, Florida, and Europe, for starters. You are brave and adventurous, and you push your older brother to new heights. You really are a mama's boy.  I think you will have a personality that is lovely and challenges me because it is different from mine.

The breastfeeding journey that you and I have shared was nothing if not dramatic and fun, and I must say that it ultimately was one of the most rewarding journeys I have ever embarked upon. It all began the moment you were first handed to me, and you proceeded to easily latch on and nurse for 50 solid minutes. I finally had to pull you off because your daddy wanted to hold you for the first time too! I remember two and a half months later trying a dairy-free diet in an attempt to ease your obvious suffering, and my surprise when it actually seemed to begin working five days later! I remember the look on Dr. Harmon's face and the tone of her voice when she looked me in the eye and told me that your chances of not being allergic to dairy (AKA delicious) foods forever was greatly improved if I would choose to keep nursing you and just cut dairy out of my own diet; I remember the half-second it took me to agree to that because I am your mother, and I would give up ice cream and pizza for eight months if it meant that you had a better chance of getting to eat it someday with me. And then we were off, you and me; dairy-free buddies, bonded for life. :)

I remember my hardest day of motherhood quite well; I even blogged about it.  You just absolutely weren't having it that day, and you screamed for hours on end. That was the day that I began loving Adele, as I blasted her album during dinner preparations in the house while you were outside with your daddy and bubby shooting hoops. Now that I have some distance from it, I look back on that day fondly. I discovered the next week that you love Adele too, coincidentally, and I think it's fun that we have that in common. Your reactions to her music have ranged from peaceful trance (with the most adorable cocked head and still posture) to all-out dance fest (which I can't decide is better in your car seat or the living room floor), all of which have brought chuckles to your dad and me.

 Georgie, I love you with all of my might. I love your soft, kissable cheeks.  Your daddy and I are crazy about your snuggles, even as they are becoming fewer and further between.  I love the sight of you walking around the corner with that giant doggie pacifier hanging out of your mouth.  I love and already miss the memories of feeding you in the middle of the night by the fire in the living room, and resting with you in the middle of the day on the couch in our bedroom, with "Friends" and  "Everybody Loves Raymond" reruns on as we dozed.  I love taking you and Silas to the zoo, the library, and even the McDonald's play place; seeing you learn and interact makes my heart swell. Georgie, you must know that your daddy, your brother, and I are absolutely crazy about you. We are so glad you are part of our family. Happy birthday once again.

 Some pictures of you lately:

   Tight places can get ugly fast...

 Oh, the poses you strike!

 Living it up on one of your many trips to Elk City!

 The moment before you turned around and shut your brother into the dryer.  Silas still hasn't let us hear the end of that one!

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