Nope. It's not my birthday. Mine's in June. It's my little boy's birthday and today he's two. And although he will never ever have a single memory of the day he was born, I will cherish every minute of that day close to my heart. So, I like to wish myself a happy birthday, too. Today's isn't a usual post, but it's a huge chunk of my heart as I reflect on this day two years ago.
This was a good day. We took one last photo as a family of four before heading to the hospital to have our baby.
We left Colin in charge. ;)
It was a peaceful, and at times funny, labor and delivery. On our way to the hospital I mumbled something under my breath about forgetting my chapstick; talking to myself. Matt heard me and veered off the road to stop at CVS for chapstick. 4 speed bumps, lots of yelling and one new tube of chapstick later, we were back on the road. And after a few hours from arriving to the hospital, we got to meet this little guy.
My husband and I had not decided on a name yet, which we got flack for from the doctor when she held our baby up and asked what was his name. After a few minutes with him we named our baby Mason James.
On his 1st birthday I marvelled about how easy of a baby he had been; how he was so laid back and 'go with the flow'. He would amuse himself quietly wherever I lay him down and on our worst night after he was born I think I still got 8 hours of sleep. I had doubted myself when I was pregnant with him, not knowing how in the world I would take care of a newborn and his young twin siblings at the same time. But the Lord was unconcerned. He knew Mason before he was even born. He knew that once I met this baby, my fears would be forgotten.
To Mason the world is not meant to be understood, as it is for my older two, but rather explored. There is opportunity for fun and adventure around every corner and he dives in head first without a second thought. At 13 months he tried to test drive his brother's little riding car down the basement stairs. Ever since learning to walk at 9 months he loves to stand at the top of our steep driveway, lean forward, and run down as fast as his chubby little legs can carry him, an activity which always makes me hold my breath - but I don't try to stop him. I stand at the bottom with my arms open ready to scoop him up if he falls...but he never does. He runs right into me for a big hug. Then it's back up to do it again, (or stop off for a bite of dirt).
I love his wild sense of adventure and enjoy watching him explore and try new things. He will touch anything, taste anything, smell anything. I have yet to see him show a sign of fear, (much to my amazement as a curious observer of his ways, and horror as his mother).
As wild a boy as he is, Mason has such a gentle heart and loves to love. Kisses and hugs have to go hand in hand - he never gives one without the other.
He snuggles the same now as he did when he was an infant, burrowing his head in my shoulder, hiking his knees up and tucking those chubby arms in. I can never get enough of that. There will always be room in my arms, (if not on my lap), for some snuggling.
Mason's second year has been such a sweet treasure to me. He's given all of us so much more than he's taken. I marvel at his curiosity, his gusto, his strong will and his willingness. I am thankful for him every day and love him as if my heart will explode.
Happy Birthday to our little boy.
This post was originally featured under Chelsea's Garage, now affectionately known as StyleMutt.