He's our last baby. Which makes this birthday a little more nostalgic.
But four is the magic number in our house. Two kids (BOYS) is enough.
Don't get me wrong ... I love watching my little guys grow. It's one of the best (and hardest) parts of being a parent. I enjoy connecting and interacting with Cash now that wasn't possible before -- let's see if I'm still saying this in 10 years when he's becoming a teenager.
Still, I can't help but already start to miss having a baby in the house. There's something magical about it.
- The slobbery kisses (even you, Cale, are not allowed to give me any of those).
- Baths. For some reason, water on the floor isn't such a big deal when they're babies.
- The dancing. They don't care what they look like. And they just bounce to the beat (or if it's Christopher, dance on one leg and be-bop up and down).
- The silky smooth chubbiness and the dimples in their hands where the knuckles should be. And then there's the dimple in the elbow. Oh how I love that little dent.
- When you give them a firm "NO", it's followed by a toothless smile like they're thinking, "oh yeah, what are you gonna do about it?"
- Their pucker up sad face they make when something startles them.
- The way they walk. With a not-so-straight shuffle with their arms out like they're either a zombie or they're drunk.
- Seeing the world through their eyes. How you have to stop a thousand times during a short walk just to look at leaves, squirrels, a dog barking, the branches on the trees swaying, etc.
- Their fearlessness. How somehow they think they can take a dive off the bed headfirst and be ok.
- Their silky smooth, thin baby hair.
- Baby babble. And trying to figure out what they're trying to say, "dook, daw, woo" (Look! Dog! Woof!)
- Their smell. And everything about it.
- Folding their clothes and smiling at how tiny their pants and shirts are.
- Being able to hold them on my lap without squirming to get away.
- Farts. Yes, farts. Christopher let out a big one the other day which made us all giggle. Cash thought it would be cute to squeeze one out as well. NOT. THE. SAME.
- Belly laughs. And the way that a silly face or funny sound can make them burst the button on their jeans from giggling so hard.
- And most of all: Sleeping. The peaceful, sweet, careless, innocent sleep.
Sure they were a handful. Sure I've been barfed on in my face and poop smeared on my clothes. Sure I've had my cell phone thrown in the trash and a binky tossed in the toilet. Sure they caused me to lose some valuable sleep and chunks of hair. But they're mine.
And I can never ever seem to get enough of them.