Baby face…wait, what is that face?



Sometimes I lament that my children won’t give me that picture perfect smile. Then I remember that my ultimate goal when I take other people’s children’s pictures is to capture THEM. Their little personalities change so quickly and they come through so clearly for such a short time before those precious facial expressions disappear into the next batch of the ever evolving essence of who they are right now.

Huck may soon stop wrinkling that cute nose when he really smiles or laughs. Max may soon stop pulling one side of his mouth in, in sort of a bemused expression. I love them exactly as they are right now. I miss who they were a month ago and I look forward to who they will be a month from now.


Monday was a bad day. Piper barely slept and I woke to Huck telling me “I puke in mine bed.” (how I adore the ‘mine’.) Max, who is usually so careful dropped and shattered my iPad. He felt miserable. Everyone was cranky and it was a no good very bad day. Huck ended up with a massive time out, Max threw temper tantrum after tantrum; impersonating yours truly at age 13…so hormonal and irrational!

To say the boys are having some adjustment issues to the new baby is an understatement. They love her more than anything they’re just confused and figuring it out and needing attention and I need to figure out how to ration my time wiser and give each some good old fashioned one on one love.

In the meantime we went to the park. And they gave me their real faces, not picture faces. And I’ll treasure them, this time in our lives may be a touch rocky but we will make it.




When turning 6 is truly a milestone. It’s BRAIN SAFETY DAY!

Six days before Max was born, Sister Dub gave birth to my sweet nephew Isaiah. I saw him make his way into this world, dark hair and a strong cry. He’s been kicking ass ever since. Every child born in America is tested for PKU or Phenylketonuria Isaiah tesed positive. It’s very rare, but can cause extreme brain damage if you don’t know you have it… it’s been a long road, but Isaiah turned six this weekend. It’s more than just leaving babyhood behind and moving toward big kid-dom. It also means he is leaving the danger zone for brain damage.  I hope you’ll all welcome Dub  and her guest post about PKU and Isaiah turning SIX!


My pregnancy with Isaiah is one of the best memories of my life. Because he was a bit of a surprise, it didn’t occur to me to think about anything that may go wrong. I could talk endlessly about our happy memories.  After the initial shock faded, Ammar and I jokingly turned to a baby name book at the bookstore and said whatever name we point to, that will be the baby’s name. So he was “Dingbang” (a very popular name in China apparently) the entire time he was in my belly. More amazingly, my sister Stephanie was pregnant at the same time and so was my sister-in-law, Tamara! It was like our childhood games coming to life.

Max and Isaiah, in depth conversations at 5 weeks.

Max and Isaiah, in depth conversations at 5 weeks.


Isaiah was born with a thick, black mohawk, and dark, wise eyes. We were overwhelmed and overjoyed by this teeny-tiny person. When he was a week old, we got a call from his pediatrician. He had tested positive for something I had never heard of… “PKU”. “Don’t worry”, Tamara reassured us, “it is so rare, and almost always a false positive.” I worried. Postpartum is very real and was beginning to set in. I looked on the internet and saw the horrors of what I thought was to come. Words like “mental retardation”, “serious behavior disorders”, and “malnutrition” floated around in my head.

We did a second test. We had to wait days. All the while knowing, he was consuming the “deadly protein.” I had visions of feeding my child poison while he nursed in the middle of the night. The beginning of my crazy-making.  We had an appointment at the hospital before hearing the final results. We were bombarded with specialist after specialist. Sitting in front of all these people throwing information at us, I finally asked, “so he has PKU?” Come on people, let us deal with that first. The biggest message that was told to us was, “before age 6, high phe levels can cause irreversible brain damage”. That echoed in my head for years – irreversible brain damage damage damage. I couldn’t even fathom getting to 6 – that was an eternity away.

let's discuss how gorgeous my sister and her family are, shall we?

let’s discuss how gorgeous my sister and her family are, shall we?

PKU, a.k.a. Phenylketonuria is a genetic disorder in which your body lacks the enzyme that breaks down phenylalanine or “phe”. Phenylalanine is an amino acid that helps build protein in your body. Basically, a person with PKU must follow a special, no or low protein diet and consume a special formula to supplement needed nutrients. If not treated, the phe builds up to toxic levels in the brain and the child will have permanent brain damage along with many other complications. When Isaiah was a tiny baby, we saw an entire bus filled with people, looking like zombies, who had not been treated early enough. It was horrifying and sad. So many lives lost.  It breaks my heart thinking of all the children around the world who do not have access to the medical treatment we receive in America today.

Ammar and I figured out our routine. We had to take our baby for weekly blood tests at the hospital. Our wee little guy, starving from having to fast for 3 hours and then laying on a gigantic table so the lab techs (most of them incompetent with babies, I am sorry to say), could insert a needle into my crying infant.

We did find some hilarious moments during the dark times.  They wanted us to get a urine sample from our baby. They handed us black vials and a little connecting device to put on his penis to help us collect the pee. The catch was, the pee couldn’t be exposed to light. We had to: a.) figure out the right moment to get him to pee, b.) get the contraption correctly on his little part so that nothing leaked and everything went into the vial not on our face, and c.) DO IT IN THE DARK. Keep in mind, I knew (from going against the doctor’s wishes and looking on the internet) that we were testing to see if he had an even worse disorder in which he would have to receive spinal taps and would not be expected to live past childhood. It was too much pressure. We couldn’t get the pee in the mother &*)^&&^%*%ing vile. Not to mention sleep deprivation.

We finally collected the golden liquid. The precious information that I was trying to convince myself would prove my child was going to be okay and live a normal life. We got this precious container to the hospital. The lab tech closed the door and reinforced we needed to keep it very dark. He opened the vile and then proceeded to OPEN THE DOOR INTO THE BRIGHT LIGHT. We killed him. Okay, we seriously thought about it.

Keeping Isaiah fed and in the “safe brain zone” became our norm. We constantly asked each other “did Isaiah have his formula?” and “how much protein has Isaiah had?” We made it work. I know I freaked some people out along the way. I will never forget when his daycare provider called me in complete tears because she accidentally gave Isaiah a saltine cracker. I had the school so afraid, they thought he was going to die.

Now Isaiah is a pro. He asks everyone “how much protein is that?” He reads nutrition labels everywhere.  He knows what he can eat and what he can’t and he always asks before eating anything new. He is smart and funny and ridiculously strong. He plays soccer like he is getting ready for the world cup (which he watched religiously this summer), is madly excited about chapter books, has wonderful friends, got 4s on all but one item on his kindergarten report card (keeping his body calm, ha ha), and is pretty much an all-around cool kid.


I am writing all this because what seemed like an eternity away, is finally here. Isaiah is turning 6 years old on Sunday. The number that loomed over me since he was one week old. I know we still have a journey to come. There are still days when everyone is eating pizza and cake and bread and cheese and I hate PKU. When I hang out with other families I am often aware that our “normal” is far from it. We have to think about food and medicine and paying medical bills all the time. It can be a serious pain. I still get nervous when we go too long without getting a blood test to check his levels. If he has a bad day and acts “weird” (a.k.a. normal kid testing his limits), I freak out and think “his levels are high and the poison is in his brain…”

But I know he is fine. He is more than fine. I think he has learned many things from this disorder. He has learned to be patient. He has learned he can’t get everything he wants all the time. He has learned that people are different. He has seen some amazing children during hospital visits. We have seen cancer patients, burn victims, scary syndromes, and much, much more. We always left the hospital feeling thankful for what we have. So. Very. Fortunate. I have always said, the thing I want most for my child is for him to be a good person. So far, I think he is a better person than I am.

Turning 6 is such a celebration for our family. We did it. I want to thank all the friends and family who have helped us along the way. We are blessed with so many people who love and support us. I would be lying if I said I am not stressed about PKU anymore. But I can say I know we can handle it. This has been an amazing journey. I could not be more thankful.

He's basically a Super Hero.

He’s basically a Super Hero.


Happy birthday Dingbang… I mean, Isaiah. I love you very much.



Happy Birthday Isaiah! We can’t wait to see you again. Moving from LA, and from YOU is one of the greatest sorrows of my life. I just assumed I would see you every day. I’d pick you up from school and go to all your soccer games. I love you madly, Dingbang.




From man to man to zone defense.

If I worried when I was pregnant with Huck that Max would have trouble with a new baby, that was nothing compared to how I worried about Huck when this baby would arrive. My sweet Huck is possessive, jealous and all around 3. He is the baby and I stressed about how to make sure he knew he wasn’t displaced, that there was just one more to love.

And for the second time, I was worried for nothing. Max thought Huck was the greatest thing ever and Huck thinks Piper is. Max does too, obviously, but for him this time he is the expert. He knows how this goes and he watches over her like a hawk beaming with pride at his baby sister.

Huck? Huck just wants his baby and woe to anyone who gets in his way.

very first glimpse.jpgWe were back in our room by 7 and the boys arrived around 7:30 to meet their baby. We always call the baby “their baby” and they love this! We did this with Max as well when Huck arrived. He still calls Huck “his baby.”  Grandpa lifted them up for a very first glimpse at Piper and it was magical from there on out. I am not sure how Huck grasped the concept so clearly, just as Max did, but he knew without a doubt this tiny creature was what had been in mommy’s tummy and was now out and finally available for snuggling!



WMFirstMeet1.jpgZach told me that when this was taken Huck was saying to her “Hi Baby Piper. I take care of you. I get you milk!” so…..that’s basically perfect. And Max just took over, he is madly in love with his baby.


Dr. Hussein came by to check on me and I was able to grab a pic of her and the boys. I am so grateful she brought Huck and Piper into this world safely. A good doctor who really listens to you can be hard to find, and she is a gem!

Before long it was time for the boys to head home to bed. I miss them the moment I am away from them. If I could have I would have headed home with them, I wanted us all to be together. I’m so glad my in-laws brought them right away to see her (and me!)


So we start to adjust to being a family of five. And I attempt to find a way to protect Piper from Huck’s rather voracious Love Muggings. But it’s all good.

And then there were five. The birth of Piper; p2


Having a spinal is so weird. There’s no other way to describe your legs going numb and that feeling creeping up your body. Since we had been bumped a few times Zach was in the room for all the prep this time and I really liked that. Plus it gave him a glimpse into my experience of a C-section. Husbands usually breeze in when everything is all pristine and ready to go! 1,2,3- BABY! This time Zach saw the spinal, and how nervous I was. He saw all the prepwork that went into getting me ready and he got to see the well oiled machine that was my team of doctors. I loved this team, they teased each other and joked with us telling stories and putting me at ease, but when it was time to go- it was ALL business. They kept the drape down until right before they cut so we saw them clean my belly- which I did NOT like, there’s a vulnerability to being on the table and it’s the weirdest things that make you crazy. The feeling of them cleaning and putting the beta-dyne on my belly made me repeat in some sort of loopy record “I don’t like that! I don’t like that!”

Too bad, sister, it’s got to be done! They made sure that I was indeed numb and honestly that was the worst part. The actual surgery went smoothly and quickly with minimal effort and Piper let out a big old cry right away! That is the greatest sound ever. I remember how long it took for Huck to cry, it was so scary that silence until he finally began to squall. Piper came out squawking and it was glorious! I kept saying she sounded like a little bird, it was just the tiniest but most insistent cry.


I was thrilled they let us bring a camera in this time, so before we went in I set it up and told Zach to shoot everything. He sure did and I am so grateful to him for being able to both be there for me and still shoot like a maniac.



(shot by Dr. Hammel, of course.)


Zach knew the ropes at this point, he goes everywhere that baby goes while they put me back together. I chose to have a tubal this time, since the old gray mare ain’t what she used to be and truly? Who wants to go through this super fun time with me again? The inability to eat! The headaches! The rushing to the hospital to make sure baby cooks long enough! Good times! So yeah, this baby shoppe is closed. (But I confess if I was able too I would straight up be Ma Duggar. I love having me some babies. Even if those little buggers don’t sleep at night)

Zach headed off to the nursery with a tiny Piper and I got ready for the next part. Once you have the baby it’s totally unfair you still have like 25 minutes of surgery left. (It might not be that long, concept of time is wonky when you’re drugged!)

It was during the tubal that I learned via Dr. Hammel and the Physician’s assistant that it is indeed possible to fracture a penis. These two were hilarious! Stories from the ER, people. If you are ever in need and you score these two on your surgical team count yourself lucky. They are not only people of great skill but they can read a room like a great comedian and put you at ease with the most hilarious stories. Thankfully my abdomen was totally rendered motionless or it would have been very hard not to laugh!

Before long I was done and headed to recovery and hoping to see my tiny baby! Unfortunately, being early, her blood sugar was very low and they kept her in the nursery for a while and tended to her. I got to take a quick nap and before I knew it I had my sweet baby in my arms.


Then all I wanted was my boys there. And I knew they couldn’t wait to meet their “Baby Honey.”

It was even better than I imagined.

And then there were five. The birth of Piper.

After a weekend full of contractions I called the office at 10:30 Sunday night, spoke to a doctor who told me nothing was really happening so to take some Tylenol PM and get some rest. Contractions woke me up all night, but I did the best I could knowing I had an 8:45 appointment the next morning. Zach stayed with the boys and I dragged my vacation logged belly to the doctors, where again I was told nothing was really happening. But I knew it was. I sat in the doctors office and he said “You’re 36 weeks now, so this is really early.” I reminded him that Huck was born at 36 weeks and Max at 37 and he said since my water hadn’t broken and I wasn’t dilating I wasn’t in labor. I reminded him that despite my water breaking and laboring for almost 12 hours with Huck I never dilated a fingertip. Hmmm. He said. “Well, if these contractions go on more than 6 hours or so we may need to send you in for a non-stress test.” Then I got cranky, which coincided with a contraction “Didn’t you hear when I told you I called in last night because they’ve been going on for over six hours at 10:30 and they haven’t stopped? I’m going on 20 hours now.”
And then he sent me to L&D.

Oh! Happy Day! MY favorite doctor was on call! Dr Hussein who delivered Huck. I adore her. I may have cried all over a nurse or two about not being able to eat and all these contractions…and made them all laugh when they asked “when was the last time you ate?” and I said “April.” They got me on the monitor and lo and behold! Contractions! They plugged me into some saline to see if that would slow them and nope, that only speeded up the process. The nurse came in and asked nervously “Is there anyone that can come and be with you?” And I thought, oh…this might be happening. Before I could even call Zach, the anesthesiologist came in to chat with me and he said we were going to section around 2. Oh! Okay! It was 12:43 right then! I called Zach and told him to get there fast! Dr. Hussein said “I think you’ve declared yourself in labor! I think we have to realize that 36-37 weeks is just full term for you!”

I started feeling a little stressed in the time it took Zach to get there, which wasn’t long. And by the time he arrived I was having BIG contractions 2-3 minutes long. The anesthesiologist came to check on me and while he and Zach were chatting happily, I finally experienced what many women describe as shut up while I’m contracting or I will kill you. They were discussing the doc’s time in the army and the medical situation on the battlefield while I had a FIVE MINUTE CONTRACTION. It’s lucky they’re both cute and I forgave them but LORD OF MERCY! (plus? Dr. Hammel had the drugs. I wanted those drugs!)

And also because Zach always knows how to make me laugh:


Finally after being bumped a few times for deliveries we were headed to the OR around 4:45.


What? You don’t take an  OR selfie moments before Dr. Hammel jabs a needle in your spine. (He was rad and amazing and I didn’t feel a thing. )

I have had 3 C-sections now, and I have to say that this crew was the most fun. Par for the course I had a little panic attack on the table (Being unable to move while people rearrange your insides is for the birds, y’all.) but Dr Hammel talked me down and Dr. Hussein reassured me all was going well.

And it was. Before long we would have our teeny but healthy little Princess!

Part 2 tomorrow. Because we all love long drawn out birth stories. Okay, actually because Piper’s hungry. Do not deny a hungry Piper, you guys. Just don’t.

I have an excuse, I went on vacation and then had a baby.



We have a joke in my family, I suck at pregnancy but make great babies. I am three for three on sucking at pregnancies and hereby (totally unbiased of course) declare that I am three for three on awesome babies.

All through my pregnancy there was debate whether I was one week ahead of where the u/s said I was (and being desperate to be almost done I was on board for that extra week even if my OB was not. My girlfriend who worked in an OB office said this is normal when you have 2 or more doctors, they all – good naturedly- want to be right and sometimes make bets. I am totally not offended by that.)


Anyway we went on vacation to Rehoboth when I was 35 weeks pregnant and miserable. Listen, if you are pregnant and miserable the beach is the place to be, baby! DO IT! Every day we rolled out of bed and on to the beach where I sunned myself like one of those sea lions on the Pier in San Francisco. Max wave jumped like it was his job and gave impromptu Beatles concerts and Huck celebrated the fact that he was privvy to the world’s largest sandbox. Huck never met a sandbox he didn’t love.


Funniest part of the trip was when I packed a big thermos of ice chips to take to the beach and Max said “good idea, mommy. That way you’ll have something to eat if you get hungry.” How quickly they learn.

It was fantastic! I contracted here and there and had to take it easy a few times but mind over matter I was enjoying this trip! We took the kids to Funland and the boys went to the water slide park with Daddy and Grandpa while we took in the outlets. It was wonderful!

We were set to come home on Saturday and on Friday night it happened. Oh! The contractions! I was pretty sure the contractions were strong but mostly that I had somehow popped a hip out and the contractions were pulling it. I have NEVER had pain like that. Thanks to autocorrect I was able to send Zach a text that said simply “Pain” he came in and at one point we actually really thought this baby might be born right there in the shower at the beach house. Luckily the beach house had a vast amount of hot water and eventually they eased and I was able to sleep.

We managed the road trip home with a quick stop at Candy Kitchen for some supplies and my little contraction timer going the whole while! Every ten minutes like clockwork…I was relieved we were heading home towards my very own doctor and the hospital I was comfortable. The idea of a C-section by a doctor I had never met was a little scary to me.

Sunday was spent lounging by the pool at my friend Kelly’s house, Max and Huck splashed and swam and played with their friends and had a great time. I was so thankful for good friends who helped keep my kids busy and happy while I, yet again, sat with my feet up contracting. (Extra bonus shout out to Kelly’s husband Sean who is my chiropractor and who showed that hip who was boss and adjusted my midback and neck like a madman. God bless Chiropractors!)

But we were home, and if she was ready, I was ready. I was more than ready. All the contracting and not being able to eat anything can really wear a gal down. And honestly? I was bored of myself. Bored of feeling sick all the time. bored of being grumpy. Bored of throwing up. Bored of contracting. I just wanted her here safely and I wanted to be ME again.

But as I sat poolside I really knew just how lucky complaining, whiny, contracty, pukey me, really was. So lucky.


This is what happens when you give a stranger on the beach your camera.


Father’s Day, we party hard.

MaxandZachWM .jpg

This Father’s Day we took dear old dad to the Frederick Keys game which was totally rad because Max in particular (obviously), has a real common interest with Zach and that’s baseball! The Keys are great when you have kids, tickets are inexpensive, there are all sorts of bounce houses, carosels and games for them to play, but the REAL highlight is the little bit of grass way over in right field where the kids can run and try to catch a foul ball or two.


And Max does his best dreaming there. MaxCatcherWM.jpg


This year they did a Father’s Day Special; dads got to toss out a pitch and everyone got two hats, two hot dogs, popcorn, coke etc. And like always the kids got to run the bases after the game. After a quick stop at Waffle House (Daddy wants Waffle House, Daddy gets Waffle House) we headed over to the stadium for a very sunny and fun time.

I immediately got overheated and faint and proceeded to have contractions every 5 minutes, so that was rad! I did keep down a bite of ice cream sandwhich and a lemonade. Suck it Hyperemisis!

It was a lot of fun, even if Huck has decided he hates the camera.


I hope Zach had fun. And I hope that he knows just how much we love him. The boys adore him and I do as well. I have never had anyone in my life before Zach who has never, ever, betrayed me. Even in a small way. He’s always had my back when he should. He’s never betrayed my trust. He has never hurt me. Sure, we’ve fought and disagreed and had our troubles, but he has never done anything to injure my faith in him. I didn’t grow up with a father and the dads I saw varied from terrifying to to-good-too-be-true. Zach and I sometimes falter finding our way but we always try to do right by each other and our babies. I love him so much and I hope that this Father’s Day he felt just a little bit of that.

3generationsofDulliguysWM .jpg

A funny thing happened on the way to Maleficent.

It’s no secret I am -err- was Team Aniston all the way. I mean, yeah…Angelina is smoldering sexy hot and CLEARLY a predator who wore a vial of blood around her neck and she stole the homecoming queen’s husband so obviously, I hated her.

maleficent-angelina-jolie 2

I mean not really, cause she’s a movie star and you know I have actual things that actually apply to my actual life to worry about. But you know, Angelina evoked feelings of junior high “I hate that girl” exclusion. She was not in my club, if you know what I mean.

I am certain Angie was just tore up over it.

This weekend my girlfriends and I escaped on a Saturday night to see Maleficent, who is my favorite villian in all of Disney, and let’s be honest Angelina is perfect for the role. Despite my non-love for her even I can give credit where credit is due, she is a wonderful actress. I think perhaps I had forgotten just how gorgeous she is. I haven’t seen anything on the big screen that didn’t feature a video game villian wanting to be a hero, an animated blue smurf, a super fast snail or an Ice Princess in well…how old is Max now? I think the last time I saw her on the big screen was Tomb Raider. Anyway, DAYUM girl is gorgeous on the big screen. Some people are just meant for that and she is one of them. Kind of like how my grandmother was in LOVE with Clark Gable and I was like yeah, he is okay. Then BF Janice and I went to see Gone With The Wind at the revival theatre and the camera swept down the staircase and he looked up at Scarlet and Janice and clutched our pearls and gasped. Made for the big screen.

Basically, we liked Maleficent. It was sad and complex and there are always three sides to every story. Yours, mine, and the truth. But what was interesting was how confessional and guilty we all felt as we chatted afterwards that we- gulp- kinda really like Angelina Jolie now. She never says anything assholish like Gwynnie, she knows her privelege and seems to use it earnestly for good. Just yesterday she was all up in people’s faces dropping logic about rape being a warfare tactic. Um…yeah it is! Maybe she can get things done. She really seems to have that power and wield it well.

She is an amazing mom, both she and Brad by all appearance seem to not only accept each of their children for exactly who they are, Zahara carrying purses and wearing sparkly shoes while her sister is free to be as tomboy as she likes, but encourage and support them in all their interests. They keep their family together and while they are growing up in the lap of luxury they make sure their children know about the world and what is happening. She’s had her strife and her losses. She bears them with grace.

We all chatted about it and as embarrassed as we were to admit it…Angie, welcome to the club. We like you now. We’re sorry we weren’t more open minded. You’re pretty kick ass. And you should play all the roles. We promise to go see you on the big screen. The only thing we really still hate you for is those cheekbones and that chin. How do you not have a wattle? It’s really unfair. But you’re rad and we (sheepishly) love you.

Also, black leather cat suits we’re basically invented for you and Diana Rigg, Angie. I feel like you must always wear one. For us.


A good time was had by all…

We ended Huck’s third birthday celebrations with a good old fashioned party. My birthday philosphy is like this Kids+toys=fun. So I am sort of low key about it. Here’s a slip n slide, a splash pool some squirt guns, some water balloons and some sugar. Have fun storming the castle!

And they did. Our front yard ended up being a total mudpit and the ladies in the group removed themselves to the backyard for snacks and inside for other toys while the boys ran and jumped and slid till the pool was the most revolting brown and they were covered in grass and dirt.


Huck being three and having not started school before, has a friend group that pretty much consists of the little siblings of Max’s friends. I was particularly touched that Max’s entire school class showed up to play, bringing little sibs along. Such a great group of kids, and you know? The kindness and love they have always showed Huck and showed him at his party was so sweet. They all seem to view one another’s little siblings as part of the communal group and look out for them. So a bunch of 5 almost 6 year olds partying for a 3 year old was just a good time. It was so sweet how they helped him with the pinata and always checked on him to make sure he was okay. Huck was a little overwhelmed by it all but he ended up having a great time and I had to finally truly admit that I love it here in Maryland. I do. I love these kids and I will miss them when they all head off to different elementary schools in the fall.

I am fairly certain that all the Lightning McQueen toys, clothes, and books in our area have been purchased. So if you’re looking for anything McQueen in our area…sorry. Huck just about lost his mind opening “mine presents?”


huck cake WM.jpg

He was so excited to blow out his candles he couldn’t wait for the song to be finished. It was great.


Huck’s Auntie Kelly made his cake. Lightning McQueen of course!

Huck ended the day with a bonfire at his favorite, Miss Jackie’s and an outdoor movie. I think three was a success!


Every year I write a letter to my kids on their birthdays. Today Huck is three and this seems impossible, simply impossible.


Dearest Huckleberry,

My God how I love you. When I was pregnant with you everyone would tell me “oh, he will be so different from Max.” but I couldn’t fathom that. I couldn’t even conceive of who you would be. But I wondered a lot…what would you like? What would you do?

You are so, so very different from your big brother. I worry sometimes that you might feel like you are not the “good” kid, because Max is such a pacifist. He hands over every toy and never fights back to your completely normal childhood beatings. I want you to know that you- YOU are a good kid too. You are. You have had many struggles in your second year, it took a while for you to talk, you still hit too easily, you’ve even been known to take a bite out of your brother (I don’t blame you, he is delicious) but you are a GOOD kid, through and through. You are sweet natured, kindhearted, and hands down the best hugger and cuddler known to man. You snuggle in like a champ and I hold tight knowing that very soon you’ll be grown and you’ll no longer fit so perfectly in my arms.

You are a natural consequence kind of boy. I can warn you, threaten you and forbid you to do things in order to keep you safe, but you just have to fall off that slide for yourself. But you are scared of the big things and you come to me saying “I scared.” scramble into my arms and rest your warm face in the nook of my neck. I am fairly sure that’s what heaven in like.

Your cheeks are a delicacy, and lucky for me you love to let me nibble them. Your giggle is musical and absolutely contagious.

Ligh-Queen is still your very favorite, we have ten of them and that’s not enough for you. You love to watch youtube videos of Lightning McQueen toys. I don’t understand this in the least, but hey! it makes you smile. You like to press your belly to mine saying “tummy tummy!” and you love to talk to Baby Honey.

You know your colors and can count to 10 consistently. You long to be one of the big kids and while Max had to be convinced to join in you get right in the middle of the fray! If there are kids playing, you want in! I am so proud of you, of who you are growing into and you exactly as you are now.

I love you. I hope your third year is as glorious and fun as your second! I can’t wait to see what adventures we will have. I can’t imagine anyone I’d rather adventure with than you and Max.

Happy Birthday My Sweet Baboo.

You can read my letter to Huck on his second birthday here.  and his first birhday letter here.