I didn't think that way when considering my first two kids. I supposed that's because I always knew I would have two children - for no real reason, really, other than the fact that that is what I just always viewed as "normal." Considering a third seemed like a grand deviation - a rejection of the nuclear 2 sibling family with which I was brought up in, and with what I had always envisioned for myself.
But then there's that saying that every woman knows when her quiver is full, and part of me knew that mine just wasn't. Ultimately there came a time, when my second was around 2 years old, that I felt ready. I knew someone was missing. I just didn't know that that person would be a blonde haired, blue eyed boy named Colin. Who just turned 2 years old.
From the moment I set my eyes on him, I knew that I had not in fact been presumptuous. This baby was not asking for too much. He was not just a bonus. He was his own person, meant to be my child. I knew upon meeting him that my life would never again be complete without him, and that he filled a huge gaping hole that I never even knew existed.
Hanging out with him these past two years has been one of the greatest experiences of my life.
It's been an experience distinct from my years as a mother prior to him arriving. The fact is, I'm a different mom to Colin than I was to his older brothers - in good and bad ways. Like the quintessential third child, I don't take as many pictures, I have yet to complete his baby book, and I really couldn't tell you when he got his first tooth or took his first step. But in a weird way, this is refreshing - I don't do these things because I've learned the important lesson that memorializing a moment isn't as important as experiencing it. And so instead of documenting his days, I enjoy his days - present in each one, having also learned the lesson that time goes by painfully fast.
I am incredibly laid back, sometimes to a fault. I don't sweat it if Colin doesn't eat his vegetables or misses a nap, and when he takes a tumble I don't gasp in panic. He can eat dirt or sand or paper products without me being overly concerned. When I picked him up from the gym childcare last week, I didn't lose my shit when I realized he was drinking a bottle of someone else's breast milk. And if he wakes up in the middle of the night, I don't freak out about bringing him to our bed and creating bad habits. I relish the time I get to rock him to sleep, for I know our time for this is short.
Colin doesn't get as much attention as his older brothers did at his age, but as a result he is incredibly independent. He roams freely throughout the house, and at times I actually can't find him (something that would have made me pass out with my first child). Generally I find him playing with trains in the basement, trying on his brothers' clothing, or in his room, reading a book.
Photo courtesy of Darcy Troutman Photography |
Photo courtesy of Darcy Troutman Photography |
For his birthday a few weeks ago, I decided to make the day all about him. After we dropped his brothers off at school, we went to Turtle Park - a park I used to take my oldest to almost daily when he was a toddler. I don't think Colin had ever been there before.
We had a wonderful day- just him and I.
A few days later, we had a birthday party. It was smaller than the 2nd birthday parties we had for his two older brothers - by this time, we had learned our lesson regarding 2 year old birthday parties (because what 2 year old has friends and what 2 year old is ever going to remember?). But in many ways, it was more special. We celebrated with cousins and aunts and uncles and close friends. We celebrated Colin.
The notion that we might have stopped at 2 seems inconceivable, and would have been tragic. Because this boy brings joy to anyone and everyone around him. Especially me.
Photo courtesy of Darcy Troutman Photography |
Happy 2nd birthday, my baby boy.
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What a beautiful post! Love the closet photo - reminds me of my 4 year old
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