E 3.5

Oh, Everette.

As I sit down to reflect on you, I am flooded with all of the emotions.

You see, buddy, we’ve always had a very special connection.  From the moment you were born… well, after I got over the shock that you were actually here, actually a BOY (both of which were such dreams come true!)… 

I’ve been wrapped around those perfect little fingers.

I’m not sure, but maybe it's because I fought so long and hard to become pregnant with you, stopping at nothing to bring you into this world.  It’s hard to explain, but it was like I knew in the depths of my soul that if I just didn’t give up…

...there would be you.

And so, because of that, or maybe because our souls intertwined so deeply when you grew inside of my belly… I have always had this connection with you that cannot be put into words.

And, buddy, I know you feel it, too. <3

And when I remember how my heart felt all mushy and melty the first time I saw you, I cannot believe that day was three AND A HALF years ago.

Everette… You’re three AND A HALF today!

And you are three and a half years of snuggles and deep breaths, sweetness and timeouts.

You love to wear costumes, especially those of the superhero variety.  You like weapons and swords and Nerf guns and fighting and wrestling, and you’ll actually bust out some pretty impressive ninja moves.

You love all sports, especially baseball and soccer.  In fact, this spring you’re playing your first organized sport!  I’m not quite sure you get the concept yet, but Lord knows your smile lights up your face when you get to wear your soccer clothes.

Your silly faces make me laugh out loud every time, and your giggle is contagious.

 You ask to listen to the Taylor Swift song “Look What You Made Me Do” every.single.morning.  You know almost all of the words. In fact, you love to listen to music, to learn the words and who is singing each song, and will even act out my crazy car dances with me.

You would eat every minute of everyday if I let you.  You always, always, ALWAYS want a snack, much preferring snacks to meals.  In fact, your feet will hit the floor from the dinner table and you’ll say, “Mommy, I’m hungry.  Can I have a snack please?”

Your hairstyle is still… special.  And I’m not sure I’ll ever figure out how to make it look decent.  Sorry buddy! You can figure it out once you care. (Though most days now you do ask me to DO IT SPIKY!  I’m not sure you know yet that you don’t really have a choice - God made your hair spiky all on its own.)

You are grumpy in the mornings, and getting you ready for school is like wrestling an alligator in quicksand.  It requires strategy and deep breaths and I’m usually sweating and counting to ten and praying for patience. 

Basically by the time I get you and your brother dropped off at daycare and get your sister and myself to our school by 7:10am, I feel like I’ve been to war.

Speaking of your brother and sister – even though you’ll walk over to Brooks and clothesline him for no apparent reason, you love him so much and he, you.  In fact, Brooks is always saying, “Reverette!” 
And oh how you adore your “Sissy,” even as she bosses you around. But with every directive you follow, you’ll end up tackling her… so, it all evens out in the wash.

Other than mommy and daddy and your siblings, your next favorite person on the planet is Miss Katie -- and I'm not sure you would've survived your first year in "school" without her.

You are all boy, you’ve already been in a cast, and you recently had your first of what I’m sure will be many blood-filled freak accidents.  You came out minus some gum tissue, a sliced frenulum, and a bruised and turning-brown tooth, but we all survived and now I’m basically just holding my breath and waiting for the next time your boisterous self gives me gray hair.

 You love to ride your scooter, especially starting at the very top of our very steep driveway.

You can whistle now, and when you tell me a story you sort of talk out of the side of that sweet, expressive mouth.

And speaking of expressive mouths – just a couple weeks ago you got in trouble for saying the “f” word at school.  At the mere age of three. The word of all words. A word neither I nor your dad says.

A few days after that, you flushed a toy down the toilet because you and CK were arguing over who should be able to play with it.

 Jesus take the wheel.

Everette, amidst all of the deep breaths I have to take, in the middle of trying to learn how to be the best mama I can to a wide-open little boy, you will totally unprompted, randomly and sporadically tell me several times throughout the day:

“Mama?”

“Yeah buddy?”

“I love you sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo much.”

And then I forget all about the curse words and the toys down the toilet and the threenager behavior and my heart basically melts into a puddle on the floor and YOU CAN HAVE WHATEVER YOU WANT, BUDDY.

…

You are mischievous and trouble and rough and tumble.

You love your sleep, give the best hugs, and you are the best snuggler.

You are expressive and perceptive, aggressive and energetic.

You feel a lot of emotions, all of the feelings, and you’re still trying to figure out how to get them out of your body in an appropriate way.

You are so kind and caring and innocent and smart, and you ask me everyday, “Mom, am I sweet?”

And the answer, Everette, is that you are so sweet.  Your heart was made to love, and I cannot wait to see all of the people who come into your life and are lucky enough to be loved by you.

Because I know that every single day I thank God that he chose me to be yours, chose you to be mine, chose me to be the one to hear your giggles, to receive your snuggles, to answer your questions, to feel your unconditional love.

You make me a better person, a better version of me, a better mama with each breath you take.

Happy HALF birthday, buddy.

I love you with all my heart and soul…

~Mommy