The past three years have been quite a wild ride. Since welcoming Doodle into our world (and before), he has continually surprised us.
He was later than we expected and caused a lot of stress for the whole family and his birth took longer than any of us would have liked. But he made it and instantly stole all of our hearts.
His first year in our family was a whirlwind as we navigated the public school system (and finally gave up). He sat up later than the girls, crawled later than the girls and wasn’t even trying to walk at a year (I always blamed his enormous head!) But he hit all of his milestones eventually and was keeping up with his sisters in no time.
We’ve spent 2 1/2 years navigating his food sensitivities, trying to keep him away from milk and corn. And he has been amazing about it. He will even now tell me “me no have butter,” and “me have my cheese?”
But the most amazing thing about him and the journey we’ve taken is that he is saying all those things. Because 6 months ago he wouldn’t put 2 words together and at his last well visit with the pediatrician we had a long discussion about getting a speech evaluation. And while it turns out that I dropped the ball on that idea (failure has become a way of life for me), it turned out we didn’t need it and I can walk back into that office with my boy this week and confidently say “I’m not worried about his speech anymore.”
He now runs around singing A Spoonful of Sugar and we even survived potty training still liking each other (it wasn’t nearly as scary as other mommies of boys tried to convince me it would be after my two girls!) He loves to be helpful and has a small obsession with vacuuming (“fo da-dee.”) He has no fear in the water and loves flipping around the yard with his sisters trying to do the same big gymnastics feats they are working on. And everyday when I call the girls to do schoolwork, he grabs his coloring book and scribbles, scribbles, scribbles until he feels he’s done enough then will proclaim “my scoo-wook all done,” and run off to play.
He adores his sisters and baby brother. He is so sweet and gentle with Pipsqueak and wants so much to be just like Sugarplum and Honeybun. He loves trucks and trains and airplanes; sticks and rocks; Olaf and Star Wars. He’s silly and sensitive and stubborn and still very much a mama’s boy.
And he’s three.
For three years he’s been filling our lives with laughter and love. For three years he’s been adding just a little bit more chaos to our already crazy world. And while I am so glad to see him growing and becoming so independent and capable, it’s always hard to see my babies grow. I reminisce about what they once were and get a little sad because he will never be my little baby again. But I also get to dream about all he will become. I get to look forward to our years together as he continues to grow and change and become all he is meant to be.
