Almost Six

Took these last night at about 6:30 or 7, just after dinner.

You were SO pleased to be photographed; traipsed on out into the yard, barefoot and holding your dress like a dainty Victorian.  It was difficult to keep you from posing.

And your poses are great, don’t get me wrong.  But looking back, this smile is what I will want to remember when those tiny baby teeth fall out, when you have the precious gaps that promise adulthood.

And I will love those gaps, too.  And the beautiful new teeth to fill them, and your every phase and year to come. 

I wouldn’t hold you back.

I know you will become someone I want to be.

After all, you already are.

Coy, saucy, and impulsive are complimented by tender, affectionate, and wise.  You’re like any good dessert; you have a touch of salt that highlights your sweetness.

Your smile lights up my heart.  So much that it hurts.  And you’re fun!  You really are.  You are a fun person to be with.  All of your brothers would agree. 

You will sometimes ask me “mama, are you in your own little world?”  But as you can see, you’re asking because you’ve been asked this.  Many times.

And what a wonderful other world you must live in.  I would love for you to take me with you, just for a glimpse.

We’re about to redo your room… actually, move you to a new room.  On the wall I’m going to paint this quote, because it’s so true of you, you are such a blessing to your family:

 

 Where shall we see a better daughter or a kinder sister or a truer friend.  - Jane Austen

And I should add to that- “or a funnier comedian.”  You really crack me up.  Not in a “isn’t my child cute” way… in a “friend cracks a friend up” way.

 

(You think you’re pretty funny, too.)

You often give me paper drawings with pictures of us that read “friends.”  And you’ll say, “even when I grow up we’ll always be friends, right?”  And if I haven’t answered you ten times already, listen up:  I will always, always, always be your friend.  So long as you’ll have me.

I love you.

Birthdays All Around

 

My beautiful grandmother who turned 80 May 13th. 

The cakes my mother tastefully ordered.

The dinner table.

Uncle John, Nana, and my Uncle Tom (my mom’s brother.)

GrandJack and Nana.

The birthday buddies.  Sam was born on Nana’s birthday!

Uncle Tom showing Sam his moves.  He should be embarrassed.  He has no idea how Sam can boogie when he’s not shy.  He would put him to utter shame.  I was just telling Facebook today that he really seems to pull out the moves for Kirk Franklin.

Jack enjoying his ice cream and cake.

I asked him to smile.  I think that’s pretty obvious, right?  Smile?  This doesn’t at all look like I asked him to growl like a wild animal.

 

Nana reading her cards and the kids sliding down the banister.

Daddy blowing out Sam’s candle.

Sam- not at all sure why everyone is singing and looking at him by candlelight.

And I think the rest can go without captions.  In fact, this whole post could’ve gone without captions.  But I like to talk.

 

  

 

 

Happy Birthday, Sweet one-year-old!           

12 Months

Dear Sam,

You’re one!  (Took these at 11 months.)  You shared your birthday party with Nana and I’ll post those pictures later because I took 5,000 of you at the park that I can’t narrow down- so here we go…

You have a precious mouth.  I love to kiss it. 

You have a round head that I love to rub.

You have soft hair that I love to smell.

You have 4 pearly teeth that make me smile.

 

When you smile, your eyes smile, too.

You are independent and determined.  You started walking at 9 months and haven’t slowed down since.

You’re climbing and trying to dive out of my arms in the swimming pool.  You don’t have the sense to match the skillz, little dude.  We’ll get there… it’s a scary ride, but we’ll make it.

You love music.  You try to sing along “ah ah ah” and you dance and tap to the beat- you get so into your dancing you almost knock yourself over with your moves; throw yourself off kilter.

Your hair is growing in a patch atop of your head, like a toupee, like Evan’s did.  Only yours is straighter.

You still have that precious deep dimple in your right cheek.

You are coming out of a phase of saying “oooooo!  OOhh! oooo!  WOO!”  with such inflection that it tickles us.  (You’re doing that in this shot above.) 

One day I heard you raving even above and beyond the normal ooooo!  and I wondered what sort of treasure you had found in the other room you were in.  3 minutes later you walked out with a Tootsie Roll Pop covered in hair.  Treasure, indeed! 

You love for me to chase you.  You can be in a wretched, miserable mood and if I get on my knees and start crawling after you, you break into smiles and laughter and start running so fast you tilt and wobble like a bicycle without a rider.

 

 

You won’t sit still for a book yet.  You won’t sit still for much at all.  Cuddling?  Forget it!  The most I can get is you sharing your bottle with me when I dress you for nigh-night… and maybe a special smile here or there… but for the most part, you have business to tend to… work.  Work is calling.

You love swings.  Swinging high.  The higher the better. 

And you’re learning where your tongue is.

Your words are “dada,” “mama,” “all done,” “roo roo” (Charlie- or you mimicking the way he talks,) “hot,” “bye-bye,” and “hiiiii,”  or “hiii, da!”  to daddy, which you say SUPER soft and sweet.  Super.  Yeah.  That’s right.  I’m jealous.  I’ll admit it.  

You really are a daddy’s boy.  You light up when he comes home; you hear his voice and drop everything and start searching him out.

You love the grill, too.  You are obsessed with it.  “HOT, HOT!”  You breath, almost huff out… you expect me to hold you when I’m cooking, too, because you know my stove is “HOT, HOT,” and you would love to tell me that for 30 minutes straight while you try to touch it and I try to not let you touch it and actually cook something.

You love your bed.  When it’s time, it’s time and you ask for “nigh-night.”  You hold your blue bear against your face with one arm and your bottle with the other and your eyes start slowly opening and closing before we even leave the crib-side.

You are into EVERYTHING.  Your favorite places are our bathroom drawers, my pots and pans and dish soap cabinets, and daddy’s side of the bed with all of his technological gadgetry.  You are forever sticking teeny tiny things in your mouth that should not be there. 

You’re a great eater!  You want what we have.  I can’t put so much as a potato chip on a big kid’s plate without you expecting to get one, too.

You’re stubborn.  VERY strong-willed.  Your fits don’t last forever and ever like SOME people’s… not to name names- JACK- ahem...  but you are very pig-headed about getting your way.  Tonight I kept trying to steer you away from our filing cabinet and distract you somewhere else and you returned to it again and again… the final time I held you at bay with my hand on your forehead and you drilled into my palm with the tenacity of a bulldozer- I WILL have those papers all over your office by 6 sharp….

And you will scream and flap your arms at me- you speak your own language when you do this, but you ARE giving me a lecture on the 10 ways I have just wronged you and the 11 ways you will outsmart me and get your way, so emphatic are you. 

And your siblings are, of course, smitten with you.  Sometimes to the point of smothering you.  You’re either in the mood for Evan’s affection or you’re not and you scream and yell and push his head away… which he completely ignores and keeps right on smacking on your cheek.  Madalyn is so sweet and adult with you that you are never irritated with her… she is magical to you.  And Jack amuses you.  You love it when he hugs you by the head.  Most of the time.  Sometimes you’re not in the mood and he asks me why you pushed him away… but that’s usually when you’re tired, because often you will hug and lean into him… you can be super affectionate with all of them and give open-mouthed kisses, so tender and sweet.  When we visited another baby friend who is 9 months younger than you, you gave him the softest kiss right on his forehead… wet, but soft.  Precious.

You are precious.  So dear to all of us.  The kids say all the time- each one of them say this- “Sam is just SO cute, look at how cute he is!”  And you are.

I love you to the moon and back,

MAMA XOXO