Happy Birthday Wee Man!

February 21, 2012

Wee Man is one today! Already ….

Happy Birthday!!

You were born three hundred and sixty five days ago in Alaska, in a blizzard. Today you are a teething mess (working on number 8) and the light of my life. The second man-person I’ve ever been wildly in love with.

You laugh … a lot. You are ticklish like daddy. You love music, you start bouncing …. usually on beat …. whenever it comes on.

You are going through a Momma’s boy phase and the toothy grin you flash the moment you see me every morning is soul food.

You like to bang on things. You like cars already. You love sticking your head between peoples’ legs. (Editor’s note: ?????) 


You LOVE your sister. You crack each other up. And she manhandles you a lot, and you let her. You like to steal her markers and crayons and eat them. It drives her (and me) crazy.

You can palm a baseball. I think that is worth noting.

No matter how hard I try, I can’t form the words to encompass how much we love you, our son. So maybe in the details, in the dailies, it comes out a little. You, our gift of a daddy look-alike. (Second note: Pete and Re-Pete …. I know I know, but I couldn’t resist.)




We had a small celebration last night with two families integral to our lives here. Simple … some sports themed plates and napkins, a photo banner of your first year, cupcakes, pizza,

and our football jersey collection. 

Sweet friends and chocolate chaos. (And your future wife …. and the three fakest funniest cheesy grins on three little girls) 

 

It was a joy to celebrate you, teething and all.

~M.

P.S. Of course you chose today. your birthday, to be a teething mess, poop a big log in your bathwater, have a fever, and go to bed early. Happy birthday to you. 

More about Molly Huggins

I am an unrepentant extrovert with an ongoing, passionate affair with coffee, ellipses, and the written word. I write because it’s how I’m made to worship. I am a story teller, because redemption has a story to tell. And always, I want to be a story collector. So have a virtual seat at my beat-up kitchen table. Read my story. Tell me yours. Stay awhile. And P.S. ... for more about me, click on my mug in the sidebar;)

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