My dear, sweet Malcolm,
Yesterday (at 11:54 pm), you turned three.
Three years old!
Yet, when I kissed you on the forehead and left you in your darkened bedroom after saying "good night," I couldn't help but recall the very first time I kissed that same forehead ...
Your head was much smaller then ... Squishy, and pink.
Your eyes were a dark blue-gray, bewildered, but alert, trying to adjust to the bright hospital lights and take in your brand new surroundings. Trying to make sense of the craziness that had just occurred.
Just this evening, your Dad recalled how you "just stared at him" when you were examined under the warming lights that hung above the newborn bassinet.
When he locked eyes with you, I'm sure he felt the same way that I did ... Completely and utterly in love.
And that feeling hasn't wavered.
Not once in these past three years.
Not even a tiny bit.
If it's possible, I think I grow to love you more with each year that passes.
You are such a personality now. Full of life, and humor, and curiosity. You are goofy like your Dad, and full of the same kinetic (and boundless) energy ... But you are also reflective like I am, quietly learning and scheming while the world moves around you. Comfortable with silence and just listening, thumb happily in your mouth ...
At least until you feel like talking ...
Your voice (the voice that, it seemed, took so long in coming) is the soundtrack to my days. Questions, comments, observations, exclamations, and even songs ... All flying through the air with such speed and enthusiasm. Almost all of your signs are gone (unless you want some extra emphasis), now replaced by words ... And more words ... And more words!
The things you say astound me.
You are smart (and that's not the mother in me talking). You seriously amaze me with your ability to take things in (like during your very first moments) and remember them ... Events that happened long ago, exchanges and conversations that you heard, dialogue from your favorite DVDs, details that I'm positive you didn't notice. Somehow you piece it all together, like the many puzzles that you have deemed "easy."
You are caring and sweet ... You love everyone. Your grandparents, your aunts and uncles, your cousins, adults you see at church or the grocery store, and Pearl. You love your sister. Your complete dismissal of her presence during her early days has been replaced by a growing interest. You like when Pearl touches, looks, or "growls" at you, and you are quick to share Spot (if only for a second or two) when you notice her being fussy. You always want to snuggle with her on her ocean activity mat and make her laugh when he's hanging in her doorway bouncer.
"Pearl like Malcolm!" You exclaim, a grin crossing your face.
Of course she does.
How could she not?
You are truly everything I could have asked for in a first child and so much more ... You have set the bar so, so high and have made me so proud to be your mom.
So proud that you are my little boy.
It's been three years since you came into my world ... Three years since you made me a mother and changed everything.
I can't wait to see what the next three (and beyond!) will hold.