Today, my second child turns FOUR. How this happened is beyond me. I’m aware of time passing, and part of me is grateful (I mean, who really wants to be pregnant forever?), but it’s such a shock to see how time has affected my babies. Aren’t they still babies? Weren’t they JUST born? It’s like a slap across the face that all of a sudden, this squalling infant is a big kid.
You know, Paulie has always been my difficult child. He has always been the one to get under my skin. To drive me crazy. I’ve always been hardest on him. It’s not intentional at all, but I can reflectively see myself treating him older and getting easily frustrated with him. But the more I look at him, the more I realize that he’s just. like. me!
When he gets upset over little things, I see myself. We’re both hyper emotional, something he definitely doesn’t get from his dad and doesn’t seem to share with his brothers. When I see him getting angry to leave the playground, I see that it’s because he loves his friends so intensely that he doesn’t want to miss them. When he desperately climbing on top of me and all I want is to not be touched, it’s because he needs the touch affection just like me.
He is my mini me. He is my boy. And he’s four today.
You have never met a sweeter, more intensely loving, fiercely protective kiddo. I’ve never seen a happier birthday boy.
This post may be incoherent. I apologize. I’m in the last month of this pregnancy, and I’m feeling every bit of it. I’m more emotional, more tired, more reflective than usual, and since it’s my baby’s birthday, I’m feeling all the emotions I felt when he was born. The fear of adding a new kid to the mix. The sadness that Judah would no longer be my only kiddo. The immense joy at finally meeting this beautiful creature I had only ever felt moving.
On the day my sweet Paulie was born, I didn’t realize my heart could grow to love someone new. And it did. Even after he peed in me immediately following birth. Unlike Judah, he didn’t need to spend time in the NICU, so I was allowed to keep him on my chest every chance I had, and inhale the intoxicating aroma that is new baby smell. The rose colored glasses were immediate, and the love was intense. I couldn’t believe this little man was mine.
No matter how frustrating my incredibly independent second son is, no matter how angry he makes me, he is mine. He is my sweetest boy. He is my protector from his dad (when the tickles start and my tiny bladder can’t handle it). He is my snuggle bug. My dinner helper.
Happy birthday, my love! I never knew how close the mother/son bond could be until I had you.