It’s a two for one post today… BIRTHDAY STYLE
So today is Lil Man’s birthday… he is 9 years old. My baby, the baby, really?
(Oh crap, she’s moving into denial. The empty womb is calling to me… babies, where are the babies?)
Nine years ago? Really? (sniff)
Okay, I’m done (that was probably a lie) But oh Lil Man he is the monster and prince of the family. When there is silence he is spilling out “I love you!”
I had to teach him to say “I love you guys” when there was more than one person in the room otherwise he would say “I love you…” and name each person in the room, repeatedly until they answered back. Yes, this is a current situation.
He runs off the bus each day throws open the door and yells… “Mommmmmeeeeeeeeee” all the way across the kitchen into the craft room (where I sit on my bum) and he throws his lanky arms around me. (I am so blessed to be home and receive that again)
He is wise beyond his years and a sense of humor (the dry kind like me) that will keep adults in stitches. Without a filter he sets a field on fire. There’s something about my every three children. Hanna, being the 3rd and him being the 6th…oh the similarities. The grey hair is rampant now because of those two. I only color it so they don’t know I have a weakness. (wink)
Wait, didn’t I say two for one? Naw, you know the Pidg doesn’t have any twins…
In one week from today my Ethan is turning 12! (Oh… heart be still… I think I’ve been shot) No really. The boys are the babies, they are my youngins, why is this happening to me? No one else can possibly understand, especially mothers of children. (smirk)
Ethan, the lover of all that is good. I could have birthed only the two of them and never would you have seen such an opposite gathering of kids. He’s sweet and thoughtful and sensitive and just as tolerant as one can be. He has a filter, and a heart as big as Nebraska, unfortunately nothing like his mother. Except his dashing good looks. (wink)
Oh, how I love these boys… (yah, the girls are alright…just trickin’) I’m as addicted to their punishment as well.
Happy Birthday to my boys; the keepers of equality in this home. They are the protectors of their older sisters who can beat full grown men up. The boys who are ever faithful and will someday hate women because of the 5 of us or learn to work women really well. (I’m not certain which scares me more) The boys, at the bottom of the barrel who hold up our smiles. The boys who we so desperately needed to finish off the team; I had no idea how important they would be to this brood.
The boys, my boys… one got my dimples and the other my big round head.
Happy, happy day to you sweet things. You are so loved!