Our relationship will change so much soon. His life will change. Three is becoming Four and Only is becoming First or Older.
Somehow even at his age I get the feeling he somehow understands his life is in transition. Even though he's going through a powerful Papi phase, he clings to me and cries for me more than ever. He's become suddenly hyper and more difficult for an easily overstimulated Mamma to handle and it's been a sudden shift. We've talked about the baby in Mamma's tummy, how it's going to come out soon and how we'll love it and care for it when it does. We've read Welcome with Love and We Have a Baby together. But can a two-year old understand what's happening?
Even if he doesn't, I do. And it makes me think back over the last almost three years...
His birth was long and difficult and I didn't bond with him right away, but when I started pulling out of my post-labor fog, and I looked at his poor little face that had been squeezed out of me, I recognized him and I smiled at the large feet he'd inherited from his Papi. And on that first night together, as he slept on my chest, I listened to and learned the timbre and cadence of his voice in his breath.
In the early days I couldn't believe I'd made him. When I looked at him sleeping next to me I marveled at the thought that I had made something so beautiful and I whispered to him that things would stay as they were and we'd never fight. As he learned to focus his gaze on mine, I saw his love and felt mine.
In the following months, I learned how he and I would be together, that the books and websites were often wrong, and that I could trust what we developed together. He learned to smile almost right away, earlier than supposedly possible, though he'd never let me catch it on camera, and after months of stressful and painful breastfeeding, I learned that I could go lengths of time without feeding him from my breast and still not lose my milk. So in tune were we that if I was ever out of sync with his feeding schedule, even if it had changed suddenly and I wasn't there to know it, I would leak, and not any time I felt emotional or heard a baby cry like they show on TV.
As he's grown, I've been astonished at every new thing he's learned and wished I could track his language acquisition (English, Spanish, ASL, and even Faroese) and record every word as it came to him. I tried a couple of times but just couldn't keep up. I chuckled at my little climber, who did amazing stunts, scaling relatively high furniture before learning to walk. I've seen him fall in love with identifying monkeys ("mono!"), motorcycles ("moto!"), balls, balloons, airplanes, fire trucks, robots, trains, and now letters, especially his favorite: the letter 'H'. And I've watched him study his world as a scientist while using the same 'concentration face' I do. I love that face, Little One, even though at some point you'll be misread as grumpy when you use it like I've often been and your Omma was before me. It's funny that the 'sign name' that Tía Monica gave you is based on the word 'happy' (because you were always so happy as a baby) when others have often commented how serious you are. I know you're just as silly as you are serious though.
He has gravitated towards boyish toys and interests despite having had no reinforcement for that from us. So, maybe building and cars and shooting (SERIOUSLY don't know where he got that one) really do have something to do with the chromosomes. Or maybe it's just coincidence. After all, I did gravitate towards similar interests as a child even though I consciously made efforts to make myself like baby and Barbie dolls like my friends did.
He has his particulars with his foods as most children do. Since graduating from purees, veggies and wet foods have been completely out, there is no limit to the amount blueberries he can eat, and as of the last six plus months, he has to have a glass of water and a glass of milk with every meal, including cereal.
He's always been extremely sensitive and empathetic and I adore that about him. When he sees me upset or hears me yelp he asks me what's wrong and comes over to offer his kisses and rubs to make it better. He uses pleases, thank yous, you're welcomes, and such of his own accord, I frequently get an "I love you too, Mamma," and sometimes even get an unsolicited "I love you." He's a hand holder, like me, and loves to hold our hands off and on when we eat together at the kitchen table.
Every day I learn something new about my boy. Every day I get to laugh, even through the struggles and yes, fights, and delight in all the silly things he does. I love even the things that annoy me like his singing Smilla-de-Lilla or Heffalumps and Woozles for hours on end, though I must say his aggressive display of affection for Smilla is not my personal favorite.
Most of all I love the morning wake ups together; our snuggles and tickles and all the good stuff that comes before he insists we get up to eat. I hope that a new baby won't interrupt that morning ritual too much, I hope it won't be too long before (s)he joins in the morning yumminess and that another member of our snugglefest only enhances the warmth of it. But for now I want to savor the last moments we have alone together. I love that it's just we, my little boy and me.
