Mother's Day...everyday
How is it possible that out of all of the little boys in the whole world....we got the very best ones?
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Brady Turns Two!
"Hey Brady, how old are ?" Will always be followed with..."Im onna be TWOOOOO!" This birthday came too quickly for this Mama. I'm not going to focus of the stress heartattacks that I had due to weather, venue, and guest changes at the last minute. Rather, I want to spend my time reflected how all of those who love my Hootie pulled through, and were able to share in the joy of Brady turning two.
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I hiked around Grandfather Mountain one windy April day. I had just left my Midwife on my due date, No Baby B! I was determined to see my baby that day. Charlie and Jamie enjoyed the wildlife and the view, I counted contractions and kept a close eye on the nearest bathroom in case of....well....fluid :) Nothing happened, nada. My little Brady is two years older, he has grown and developed in leaps and bounds, but he is still a stubborn little stinker :)
I will always remember the first thing I saw when Brady was born. It was the brightest eyes I have ever seen. I never said it out loud, but I knew he focused on me even right after birth. He was a big boy, and I knew he was destined to stay that way. He has.
This year I welcomed his birthday with homemade birthday cake for breakfast. I teared up as I heard family members call and belt out "Happy Birthday" to him. He cracked up everytime and shouted, "Happy Partay!!" Charlie helped make the day special. We decorated his room, and we played all day. Jamie, Charlie, and I took him to Chic Fila for dinner, ice cream, and the obvious....fighting with bratty kids on the playthingy. Hootie walked away with a scratched face and stinky sweaty hair, but he was happy. His birthday brought together several groups of people who enjoyed his day as much as he did. He had more than more "party" due to the weather. He soaked it all up.
Brady has grown. He learns so much everyday, but as a mother and sentimental hoarder, I still cling to the things that still haven't changed about my Hootie. He still covers my mouth if I breath on him when he is trying to sleep beside me, he is obsessed with balls and sports of all kinds, he drags around his brown blankey, his feet stay stinky, and, among other things, his Mama loves him to the moon. I love it when he tells me, "Love you either, Mama." Either has become a word used in any area of a sentence and with any meaning. His decorations are packed up, and his cards are on display. My heart held up good (or "well", I'm never sure about that one)
Happy Birthday, Hootie!
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