Happy Fourth Birthday, SB!!

 Ok, seriously – where the hell does time go?

I can’t get my mind around the fact that you’re four years old.  It seems like only yesterday that you decided to show up two weeks early (I had a scheduled C-Section), and I showed up at the hospital completely unprepared, with my overnight bag containing (seriously) a hairbrush and a book (for all the leisurely reading I planned on doing).  I remember being so tired that I fell asleep in the car at the grocery store and woke up with drool all over the window; and being totally annoyed with SB’s papa that he couldn’t grow boobs and help out at night.  Those sweet, quiet days when you were a baby and splashed around in your little blue tub seem so far away now…

 You’ve taught me a lot in the past four years:

 Always greet each day with unabashed enthusiasm.

Never, ever leave a naked boy alone with a black marking pen

Jumping on the bed is “totally cool” and should be done as much as possible.

Flinging yourself off the bed is even more fun.

You can get away with a lot of naughty stuff if you shower me with hugs and kisses.

When you tell me you love me “to infinity and beyond” I secretly turn to mush, every time.

You can never have too many Hot Wheels.

Or Buzz and Woody toys.

Or toys in general.

You’re dangerous and I’m keeping track so that I can lord it over you when you’re older – one cracked rib when I was pregnant, a black eye, countless bruises, and a fat lip.

If I eat a car I’ll die.

Skittles should be incorporated into every meal, and I’m mean since I don’t do that.

I will never have privacy in the bathroom ever again.

But you will.

Nothing is funnier that burping and tooting.

Pink is ONLY for girls.

I’m a big girl so I can have pink.

Never give up a chance to sleep in mama’s bed.  You might get to touch a cat.

Cats are sharp.

Always stop to put worms back in the grass.

We can’t have a pet elephant because he’ll gush the dog.

But a pet alligator’s ok.

Always run, and if you can get away with it, scream while you’re running.

Underwear and a silk scarf make a fantastic super hero costume. 

“NO and NEVER” should always be tried first if you don’t want to do something.

Incessant whining causes mama to get crabby very quickly.  Revert to “please, I love you mama” immediately.

Too much TV makes you dumb (my brainwashing worked!)

Hide and seek never gets old.

 You can’t ride the dog.  EVER.

I love you SB, thanks for making every day another new adventure.  You are my stars and my moon and the whole sky.



Happy Birthday, SB!

To my gorgeous little guy who’s turning three tomorrow – Happy, Happy Birthday!! I love you more than anything in the universe, and consider you the biggest blessing in my world. I’m so grateful that you’re my kid, even when you’re barfing all over the car or engaging me in 20 minute conversations about why poop is brown.

You’re wildly funny, sweet, so happy (except when you’re not – then no one is), curious and silly, and I hope you keep those qualities forever.

 And now for the Hokey Mom Alert…

I wish you a world free of hate, religious persecution, crazy terrorists, people who don’t believe in global warming, and mean spirited thinkers.  I hope that intolerance is a foreign concept and compassion and love are the norm.

I wish you a life full of joy, learning, laughter, moments of utter bliss and total abandon, freedom to do/say/think what you want, and a clean, peaceful world.

I hope you laugh lots, have mountains of empathy for others, and I hope that you’re nice to girls and women your whole life.  Be happy, be free, and hug everyone you love whenever you can.  Be nice to animals and rescue lots of them.  Dance a lot, even if you look as dumb as I do when you’re flailing around.

 But stop talking about poop.  Really.


 Your Amused Mama