Three today

As I sat nursing Julian tonight, I thought back over the past three years and realized that I can still remember Jonah's whole life, beginning at 9:33 p.m. on December 20, 2007. I remember my long labor and how exhausted I was from his birth. I remember he looked a little gray and took a few moments to breathe and cry. I remember the surprise in Matthew's voice when he told me "It's a boy!" I remember the first car ride with him, how he slept soundly until the very moment we stopped the car. I remember the first delirious night with him, how helpless we felt not knowing how to soothe him and how we were so tired that Matthew couldn't figure out how to put the bouncy seat together. I remember the panic and isolation I felt the first few times I was home alone with him after Matthew went back to work. I remember my first feelings of finally "having it together" as a mom, at times anyway. I remember when he cut his first tooth, the night we went camping -- no one slept at the campground that night! I remember the first time I made him giggle as he played on his belly on the living room floor. I remember when he learned to crawl, when he first saw the ocean, the first night he slept in his crib, his first shots, his first cold, his first steps at his 1st birthday party at my sister's house. I remember when he fell on his forehead, tumbling down while learning to walk and the awful conk of his head hitting the pavement (but he was fine). I remember the delicious feeling of my first night of sleep, wearing earplugs while Matthew tended to his night wakings. I remember the first time he slept through the night. I remember when we took him to the beach when he was old enough to play with us in the surf and build (and smash) sand castles, and letting him eat ice cream. I remember his baby smell. I remember his sweaty head of thick hair when it was hot and he played hard. I remember getting in the bath with him after several of those hot and sweaty afternoons. I remember when he almost swallowed a wood chip at the playground and I was so scared I had to sit down and take deep breaths to stop my hands from shaking. I remember when I didn't know where he was for almost an hour because I couldn't reach my friend who was watching him and how I literally thought I would die if I didn't find him. (We did. He was fine. Her phone wasn't working and she hadn't realized I never got her messages telling us where to meet them.) I remember how we were like pals the summer before he turned 2, going everywhere around the city, every day doing something fun together and finally being able to talk about it. I remember weaning him when I got pregnant again and how guilty I felt when he got a string of colds and then an ear infection. I remember how suddenly grownup he seemed at 2 and then 2 1/2. I remember agonizing about his care during my labor and birth with baby number two. I remember him kissing my belly, talking to the baby, singing to the baby and telling us we should name the baby Mia, regardless of whether it was a boy or girl. I remember thinking about him that first night after Julian was born, hoping he didn't wake up scared at his cousin's house in the middle of the night. I remember how happy I was to see him the next morning and how disinterested he was at first with Julian. I remember the first time he held Julian and how proud he seemed. I remember all of this and so much more.

Now, he is 3. He's not too sure if he likes being 3 yet. He seems uncertain of growing up, sometimes. Other times, he is determined to "do it all by myself." He is beautiful. Those amazing greenish, blueish eyes with flecks of brown and the longest eyelashes I've ever seen. Puffy lips and still retaining some baby chub in his cheeks. But, he is longer and leaner than he has ever been. Less like a baby than ever. Except when he sleeps. Then, he is my baby once again. He is my first baby. He made me a mother. He has brought me so much joy. I am so lucky to be his mother.

He's been having trouble falling asleep tonight. I've been in there twice since he went to bed. I told him he should try to lie still and keep his eyes closed. I touched his cheek and head and said, "Good night. I love you." And, he said, kind of whispering in his slightly raspy voice, "I love you, too, Mama." I tried not to get tears on him as I kissed him good night. ~ Nicole