I got to meet this sweet miss and her family back in the summer, when she was just a few weeks old. How exciting it was to be able to go back and see how she’s grown! This little lady is as cute as they come, so smiley and good-natured and really darling, even when she decides she needs a catnap mid-session. 😉
Archives for February 2014
Yesterday you turned three. In a matter of moments you left toddlerhood to become a little boy. As if that wasn’t enough, you spent the day insisting that you were older than that. “How about five?” you would say. Then, at one point, “How about sixty-two?” It is good to know that that Jarboe drive to push the boundaries is coursing through your veins, though I do think three to sixty-two is a little far of a jump.
I call you my Elder Muse because, until you were born, I had no real compelling reason to pick up my camera, other than the occasional flower and the owl that lived in our backyard. Then all of a sudden my days were filled with this incredible little person who never ceased to inspire wonder and amazement on my part.
This is because you are AWESOME.
There is so much I could write about what I’ve learned being your mom–about fear and faith, about true joy and what is really meaningful in life, about humility and original sin and the boundless grace of God, and what it truly means to love and be loved unconditionally.
I love your unbridled enthusiasm. (It makes up for the unchecked outbursts of temper that you surely got from my side of the family.) You are charmingly swift to rejoice with someone’s fortune or to celebrate their achievements. (Even if this means loudly congratulating Mama on her, um, bathroom accomplishments to an entire public restroom full of people. I appreciated the offer of a marshmallow reward.)
You love people, and are always willing to strike up a conversation with anyone nearby, whether they are listening or not. The world is your friend; waitresses and nurses and people in the aisle at the grocery store are long-lost comrades that you greet with enthusiasm and leave with sweet farewells like “See you later!” and “Have a good snoozy!” You chat up the family cat like she’s your best bud, even though she generally avoids you like the plague. One day she’ll catch on to how much you adore her, I’m sure.
You always ask Mama to hold your hand before she kisses you goodnight.
You are on a real tool kick right now, always looking for a way of “fixging” things, just like Daddy. You try to “fixg” what’s out of order around you, too, and like a good older brother you are always willing to boss Clive around if he isn’t behaving up to standards.
Of course, like a good younger brother, he generally ignores your correction.
I wish I could bottle up this time–your sudden over-pronunciation of r-words and your crush on Maid Marian, your continued obsession with drums and how you always want me to run with you (and I remind you that I can’t with baby Anselm in my belly!), your impersonation of Anselm’s heartbeat and how easily you memorize the books we read together, how you love to dance and sing and how music just seems to make your world a better place. Your sweet tooth and sweet face and how you spontaneously announce to Daddy and Clive and myself that you “wuv” us, and how even when you’re at your worst you are so near and precious to my heart because you’re just so much like me.
Happy Birthday, Ephraim. You are my favorite Big Son, this year and next year and when you’re five and sixty-two, too.
This post is so late. So, so, so late.
First there was this freak snowstorm–which meant that Jeremy was home to help me with many, many projects that the nesting bug demanded be completed RIGHT NOW, and in that manic flurry of activity, the day for this post just drifted on by…
Then there was the day that where the time I had allotted for writing this already-late update was spent instead in Labor & Delivery being monitored for pre-term labor…
It’s nothing personal, Master Clive, I promise.
Well, maybe I was holding out to see if you’d start walking.
You did take four steps Saturday night. Then nothing.
You’re such a stubborn little man.
This month saw a huge growth of vocabulary and talking, including pseudo-sentences he’s picked up from Big Brother, like “I see a _____” and “I need _____”, as well as an adorable, nasal, drawn-out “naaaoooo” which makes a lovely complement to a simple shake of the head.
Emerging alongside this talking spurt has come a whole slough of Clive-isms, such as wanting to “at” (instead of “eat”) and the insistence that cars say “boop-boop”.
He has become quite the music aficionado, and can be heard frantically calling “More, more!?!” whenever a song we’re listening to ends. In the mornings, when I get him out of bed, he goes straight for the stereo in his room and asks for more music.
He is enthralled with his brother’s drumming skills and tries to emulate him whenever possible. He still hasn’t quite caught on to the fact that it’s best to keep your hands away from the same drum head that your Big Brother is playing on. Or, at least, he is still convinced that there is a way for them to play the same drum simultaneously.
He has proved himself quite the man of mischief, finding great joy in stunts like finding things on the floor and sitting by it while saying “yucky, yucky” until Mama looks to see what it is, at which point he will pick up said yucky thing and pretend to put it in his mouth.
For being such a cuddly person, he has developed a very strangely strong sense of personal space when it comes to his brother touching him. Of course, he did get quite a few eye pokes in those first few months of life. Not that he hasn’t already given back more than his fair share. I suppose that’s just brotherhood for you.
In another strange turn of events, he is most willing to drop whatever he’s doing so that we can “go, go” in the “car-car”(boop, boop!). Mama only finds this odd as he spent the first 4-5 months of life screaming any time he had to be in the car or carseat. Just goes to show you that even the best of us can change our minds about things.