Happy 3rd birthday Bean!

Dear Bean,

Happy 3rd birthday! I seem to only get around to writing you sweet, mushy letters on your birthdays, and for that I am very sorry. You can add it to the list of romantic notions I always envision doing as your mother, but never seem get done. Don’t feel alone though, it is no better for your brother.

When I found out I was pregnant with you when your brother was just 14 months old, I was shocked at first, then scared, and then (very quickly)…excited. Daddy and I hadn’t even talked about having another child, although I, for one, knew that I wanted another one even if I hadn’t broached the subject yet. But, you see, I had envisioned it happening a bit later… so you were an incredible surprise… a good surprise.

As the months went by, however, I began to worry, was it too soon? How I would relate to another child when your brother was so young? What would I do if both kids were crying at the same time? Could we afford for me to take another long leave of absence from work so soon? How would this affect my relationship with your brother? Was I even mentally capable of taking care of two kids less than 2 years apart while Daddy was so busy with the Fire Academy and EMT training (not to mention his paid job)? And what about once I went back to work?

When you were born, you laid all those fears to rest. Because you were just the most serene, sweet, quiet, easily soothed baby ever. Except between the hours of 6 pm and 8 pm, which we dubbed the witching hour, but I soon learned that going outside on the front porch and gently bouncing you on my shoulder took care of that. It had to be outdoors, though, and to this day you still are an outdoor-loving guy.

I didn’t have to address the concern of both of you crying at the same time, because the witching hour was basically the only time you couldn’t be soothed immediately. Mostly, you were perfectly content to sit and watch the world around you, and sleep. And I did manage to take a decent maternity leave, during which your brother went to preschool for most of the day during the week, so we luxuriated in that special time together. I am so glad for that.

I went back to work when you were five months old, and it was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do in my life (the other hardest being when I did the same thing with your brother). I had never planned to stay home with my kids because of financial requirements, and because I had always thought that I loved my career.
My priorities had truly changed forever, though. Were it not for the financial needs, I’d have stayed home with the two of you in a heartbeat. And leaving you each morning, even knowing I’d see you just a few hours later for lunch to nurse you, it just tortured me. For you, though, it was no big deal. There wasn’t much of an adjustment period at all. Who’s taking care of me today? Mom? Dad? One of those nice ladies at the daycare center? Great!

Your first year was smooth, easy, effortless. You reached every milestone right on schedule and continued to be an easygoing baby. Then, your second year, you began to show us a bit more of your nature. You introduced us to stubbornness, a la Bean. You would constantly shriek “outside!” while standing by the door, and hated when you couldn’t go outside, even when it was frigid cold or melting hot outside. And then there the little matter of your independence. You insisted on doing everything yourself. This is where every parent of a toddler nods in agreement, and yes I know independence is extremely common with toddlers, but you seemed to do it with…how shall I say it… an intensely hard-headed flair. There was just something about the set of your jaw and clenched fists at your side when you made up your mind on something that said it all. And if you didn’t get your way? No problem. You perfected the art of deafening shrieks and all out tantrums. So kudos to you, Bean. You got us. No more easy going kid. We got it.

In the past year, your third year, in addition to your determination, you’ve mastered mimicking everything Bug does. And that, my love, is quite a feat. You do things a child two years your senior does, without even batting an eyelash. You do things that I NEVER would have encouraged your brother to do at the same age, because it seemed too soon. Like, jumping on the neighbor’s trampoline. Or riding a big-boy bike. There is just no holding you back. And while it scares me sometimes, I love it too. Because it is just you.

You’re all about the trucks and cars, tractors and trains, dinosaurs and castles… but you are also so sweet and gentle with your baby doll and with your collection of stuffed animals. You will play with a sword and helmet in one minute, killing anything in sight…and with a large pink dollhouse the next, loading the family into the matching blue minivan. You are definitely all boy, but you are also so sweet and nurturing.

You ask “why?” right now for everything, to the point of nearly driving me crazy. I think it starts out serious, and then turns into a game for you. I can tell because right about the time I am about to despair, I notice the slight grin that’s made its way onto your face.

I love you’re the way you talk, so sweetly and earnestly, and the way you pronounce dessert “bussert” (“can I have bussert?”) and declare “huggy, huggy!” when you want a hug. And how you ask every bedtime as I say goodnight, “Rubba my back?”. I love how you run through the house naked before baths, while I chase you around yelling “booty, booty, booty!”

I love how, when you ask to carried, you will lay your head on my shoulder and put your arms around my neck tightly, sometimes even rubbing my back while you do that.

I love that once you decided to use the potty (better late than never, by the way), you trained so quickly and easily. It was like once you finally decided it was enough YOUR idea to do it, you just got down to business and tackled it. And I love that you gave up your nighttime Paci so effortlessly, without us even having to bring it up. Again, your idea. But secretly, I also love that you still suck your thumb when you get tired. We'll see where that goes.

We had a Firetruck themed party for you last weekend, because firetrucks are your current favorite thing. Daddy got his fellow firefighters to bring two firetrucks (the engine and the ladder truck) to your party, so that you and your 12 friends could climb all over them to your heart’s content. You had so much fun, and seemed so pleased that all your preschool friends came and played at your house.

You’ve added an element of adventure, sweetness, stubbornness, and laughter to our lives. Every time we think we know how you will act or react, you do something different. I cannot imagine life without you.

Happy 3rd Birthday, Bean. I love you.