"The most wasted of all days is one without laughter." ~e e cummings

Friday, April 9, 2010

Happy Birthday, Evan!

I'm not quite sure how it happened, but somehow, I blinked and my baby turned THREE years old. In honor of this momentous day, I think I'll take a moment to share some of my favorite things about my favorite Three Year Old.

In no particular order:

His hair. From the moment he was born, Evan has had conversation-worthy hair. The nurses spiked his jet-black 'do into a mohawk during his first nursery visit and it remained 'hawked until he was about three months old. And then.....the curls. My god, the curls.


His sweetness. Evan is the most loving and affectionate kid. When he needs a cuddle, he says, "Mommy, let's cuggle," and climbs into my lap. When Max wakes up from a nap, Evan is the first one to give him wake-up kisses, while he greets him with a, "Hi, boo boo boy!"

(Here he is having some cuggle time with his Uncle Matt. Notice the hair curling. How cute is that?)


His sense of humor. This kid is funny. I think all three-year olds are pretty wacky, but Evan seems to know how really *use* humor.

His shyness. Evan's social confidence is building, but he still tends to be shy when in a new environment or around a lot of people. I love that he stays close by my side, looking for reassurance from me while scoping out the new scene. I love how, once he ventures off, he looks back at me and smiles, as if to say, "Look at me, Mom!" and "I'm so brave!" and "You don't have to worry about me!"...and even though I am looking, and know how brave he is, and I'm not worried, I love that I also know he'll be cautious and thoughtful about his decisions.

His crooked smile. You know how that very first smile you catch on film feels like a miracle because it's so fleeting and unpredictable? And then your baby gets older and the smiles become easier to photograph because they become easy to provoke. And then your baby turns into a toddler and you can say, "Smile for the camera honey!" and they do! And then after a while your toddler becomes a preschooler and you say, "Smile for the camera honey!" and, for some reason, they don't. That's where we are right now. You remember. So when I see those little crooked smiles, or the big toothy grins, or the wide-open-mouthed hearty laughs, I try to remember to take a mental picture. They're easy to come by, but tough to capture.


His stubbornness. I know what you're thinking: You're thinking "That's not your favorite part about him," because you remember the monster truck shirt fiasco. And you're right...but it really is *one* of my favorite things about him. He's not the kind of kid that gets talked into doing things. He'll do/wear/eat/play with it when he wants to. And that's frustrating, when you're the one trying to get him to do/wear/or eat it Now. But I sure hope his stubbornness sticks with him so that when the other kids are doing/wearing/or eating something they shouldn't be, Evan won't mindlessly follow along. He doesn't need to be perfect, but if he's going to make a bad decision, I want it to at least be HIS decision.

They're not brown. They're not green. They are big, and bright, and brilliant. Strangers have called them "soulful." They are deep, and thoughtful, and sometimes betray just a hint of mischeif. I am in love with Evan's gorgeous eyes.


Evan's first real word was "backhoe."

Evan's favorite goodnight song is "Blackbird."

I love that he loves books.

Every night before I kiss him goodnight, we have to talk about what everyone is going to dream about. If he's in a truck mood, we have to designate a particular truck for each member of our extended family to dream about. And every night, it's the same truck for each person. If I forget and say that "Pop can dream about a cement mixer." Evan laughs and says, "No mommy! Pop dreams about the police car! Aunt Kelly dreams about the cement mixer!" Or if we're into dinosaurs on a particular night, everyone gets a dinosaur. And I better not forget that Daddy dreams about the trachodon.

I love the way he twists his waist a little too much when he runs, leaving his elbows struggling to keep up.

I love how he looks so grown up when he wears a baseball cap.


But still looks like such a little boy when he sleeps.
I love watching him grow and getting to know him as he develops his little personality. I can't believe it's already been three years....but in some ways, I can't believe it's ONLY been three years. I feel like I've known him forever.

Lesson Learned:
Any way you look at it, they've been the best three years of my life.

1 comment :

  1. Ok, I'm weepy. And I'm missing you and that kid. I can just hear your *voice* when I read this. So, let's get it done. Got to see you soon. Hugs to that sweet 3 year old!

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