Dear Son A,

I was just talkin’ to your Granddaddy on the phone.  He called to talk to you, but you were rather confused by the melodious tones coming from my new phone (yes, we’re all getting adjusted to the slimness as well as the elective reception – Ma has bad phone karma – sigh), so he chatted with me instead.

“So are you going to write a Happy Birthday entry on your blog?”

“I’m uploading photos so that I can download photos and then link to photos.”

“Well, I always enjoy reading those entries.”

“Yeah, since they’re like the *only* thing I write on this blog?”

“Well, yes.” 

Yes, one year ago today I was sitting in a really comfy bed watching the Food Network staring out at my nice view and glancing down at my slumbering bundle of cuddliness.

No longer wondering if you were going to be a ginormous baby or like those creatures from the “Alien” movies (cause, man, you did flips), but pondering who this small bebe bundle named Abel Anders would be.  I had some inklings:  you seemed to dig showers, responded to your brother’s voice (but really, who doesn’t), loved your dad’s touch, and would not come out (even though my body was letting you know that your lease was up) until you were darn good and ready.

That dark hair, boy:  where did you hide it?  Some babies lose all their hair and it comes in another color.  You shiftily shed it so that none of us noticed until one day – hey, he’s blonde!

So today marks your first trip around the sun:  how did you enjoy it?  Was it everything you hoped for and more?  I know it was for me.

Except for today.  Today I had Grand Plans.  Plans that entailed us having a wonderful family outing to a great family-fun type place and enjoying each other’s company and sunshine and rainbows and fuzzy little bunnies trailing behind us.

But y’all didn’t seem to get that message that everyone should be in the Best Of Shape.  Your pappy popped an ear drum.  Your brother seems to be exploring the deeper realms of his emotional range focusing mostly on the melancholy side.  And you, well, you picked up a lovely little stomach bug that likes to help you return the edible funds we deposit in your belly (i.e. you’ve been spewing).  Finally the bug has moved out, but not before convincing you that solid food is bad, nursing is GREAT, and losing weight before your Well Child appointment is a fantastic idea.  Dad weighed you last night, and dude, we’re not gonna be able to turn your carseat around until you start packing on the pounds.  Don’t make me start whipping you up raw egg high calorie weight lifter shakes:  I prefer to use my blender for the fruits cause they’re so much prettier.

Instead today we all went to the DMV.  Wee!  To get tags for Mama’s new-to-her car so that people won’t keep staring at her with the “stupid Washington driver” stare – mean Oregonians.  So you and your brother could be well behaved until our number was called and then we had to fill out a form and then the person helping us decided to go on break but not tell us so that you and your brother could start falling apart while your father stood and stood and stood until finally someone mentioned that she went on break and maybe she could help us in a bit.  Let’s just say it’s amazing how many teeny tiny pieces a Kashi granola bar can be broken into when trying to distract small people for the longest period of time.

And then we went to the phone store.  Wee!  To pick Ma up a phone that had not been banged into oblivion as well as a phone that might hold a signal longer than it takes to say “hold on, I gotta go plug in the phone before it di. . . ” click.  And graciously you and your brother decided Ma needed to get her workout in, so you took on the role as personal trainer, grabbing the bluetooth headsets off the wall while your brother tackled the higher perched phones.  Expensive phones.  Like Iphones.  Which one of them now contains pictures of my butt because Ma didn’t turn around when someone yelled, “Say cheese!”

And then we went to a good place.  A happy place.  A place full of your friend:  carbs.  Your Pappy said, “You really want to go there?” to which I exclaimed, “BREAD!  They have BREAD!  Little A Loves Bread!”  One of the foods you deem acceptable to eat this week.  We went to the new Great Harvest Bread Company store.  Oh, walking in was simply heaven, but then to receive a free piece of warm-from-the-oven bread.  For all the troops.  As well as getting a coloring sheet for your brother to color to get a free giant cookie.  And then to come home with two loaves – one of cinnamon chip, one of whole wheat apple crunch – ?!!!?  Well, that *is* pure goodness.

We came home.  You napped.  Not well.  You pooped.  And leaked.  And screamed.  And woke your brother up.  So we all loaded back into the car to go to your other home, a.k.a. Freddies, so that JJ could pick out a toy for you to have, a.k.a. he can play with while you play with the packaging.

Since you’ve been on an odd fast (you really should read the resources from our faith gathering, because your fasting is a bit on the wonky, and not-so-spiritual-but-rather-moody, side), I wasn’t quite sure what to give you as celebratory fodder (i.e. cake).  Your brother had carrot cake muffins with cream cheese frosting that powered him on through to the next year:  sugar.high.  I didn’t feel like dealing with that if you weren’t going to keep my birthday offering to you, so instead I thought of things you like:  bananas.  oatmeal.  cookies.  Why not put them all together?  I did.  And you enjoyed.

Then we had to give the toy a test drive.  And boy howdy, you still dig the water, Little Man.

Really.

I’m not kidding.

Thanks for sharing the bath and the laughts with us, Half Pint.

Thanks for sharing your laughter and your joy and your love with us.  Most mornings your brother greets you with, “GMornin, Sunshine!  Nice to see you!  Have sweet dweams?”  You are my sunshine.  It’s truly been delightful to see you.  And I hope your sweet dreams continue on during your next trip around the sun.

I love you, son.

Love, Ma

Little A Adventures, Mama Musings