Sunday, December 13, 2009

Where, Oh Where Has My Baby Gone?

Where, oh where could he be?
It seems he has gone the way of all the earth and magically, seemingly overnight, turned into a little man.

My Dear Precious Baby,

You are in a funny place in this family. You are still the littlest person and always will be. Everyone feels the need to dote on you and snuggle you and take care of you. Even when you're 40 and have kids of your own you will still be my baby. Forever and ever my baby you'll be. I apologize ahead of time if I embarrass you when you're a teenager for the silly things this lovey mom is sure to do, even when girls are in the room.

I just can't seem to get enough of you. I have to go into your room every night just before I go to bed to get one last peek and steal one last kiss. You're going to hate that when you're sixteen, sorry about that. For now, though, you seem to eat it up. You will snuggle anyone who gets close enough. Your sweet baby kisses are intoxicating. My knees buckle every time you wrap your little arm and hand around my neck and pull my face close to yours for "tisses". My heart swells with love as I watch you snuggle your siblings, then stand up and plow into them, starting a wrestling match full of giggles and shrieks. In just 2 short years you have worked your way into the fabric of our home and hearts and family. We love you little one. Happy Birthday!

P.S. Notice the Little People's Nativity Baby Cakes got for his birthday. Did you notice the sheep on top of the stable? It's funny to me that he pulled everything out and the sheep went straight on top. It's funny because when Mr Bird was a kid he would drive his mom absolutely batty by putting the sheep from her nativity on top of the stable every time he passed it. She would come by and fix it. This would happen multiple times everyday until Christmas. His mom would be ready to strangle him by Christmas. Funny how somethings transcend time and generations, like the impulse to put the sheep on top of the stable in the Nativity. Like father, like son!

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