I was looking back at my archives, trying to investigate the details of my last pregnancy, and I realized something: This blog used to have one huge topic and her name is Sydney. I spent a lot of time chronicling her every breath, things like her first Band-Aid and other important milestones. But this dude? My Elijah?
Well, he exists. But not much on this blog. Poor kid.
Elijah turned two this past October. TWO! And now he's nearing two and a HALF! And then? AND THEN? In July he'll be a BIG BROTHER! He'll be a … middle child?! My lands. This is terrible. Because? Because remember THIS?
My sweet, hairy-headed little baby boy has turned into this:
A buzzcut-wearing, big-footed little boy who loves trucks and trains, has big feet like his dad, who says intelligible sentences sometimes, and who has peed in the toilet THREE TIMES. He has brown eyes, dimples, and always some kind of scab on his face or kness.
He loves Buzz Lightyear, Mater, and Thomas the train. He could sit and make train tracks and wind long strings of magnetic train sets along them for hours. He lines up all his favorite cars on the couch, the ottoman, the tv cabinet. He does not like to sit at the table to eat (or to eat really, except for breakfast and snacks), but will only deign to sit there in a big boy chair (NOT his booster seat).
He sleeps in a big boy bed now.
He is definitely a mama's boy. He loves to hug and smooch and snuggle. He is super, crazy grumpy when he gets up from nap. He wants to walk everywhere and not be held and not ride in the stroller. If his sister messes with him too much he screams bloody murder then pulls her hair. He is ALL BOY.
His daddy is his hero.
He is a dog person.
And his sister? Well. She's his best friend and his favorite person on planet earth.
This little boy fascinates me. He is so different from his sister in every way. I love parenting a little boy. I love how two children can be born into the same family and have the same parents and yet be so, so different. I love his sweet spirit and his grumpy butt. I love how brave he is, and how he can be so brave and yet not all that competitive. He is precious and wonderful and two (!) and a boy (!) and I marvel at it all.
When his sister came, she was (and is) my light and joy. This guy? He's my heartbreaker, my little pal. He's going to be an amazing big brother.
(Let's just hope baby #3 makes it up on this here blog at least once. Just to be fair.)