Parker's B-day!

Dearest Parkercito,

Three years ago yesterday, I entered the hospital. Twenty hours later, you finally made your grand entrance into the world. Getting you here was a long, slow process. But your birth was the last time I remember wishing you would hurry up.

I was completely overwhelmed with the newness of motherhood. Your Daddy and I were terrified to put your tiny little 8 lbs. 8 oz. body into a big scary car. We were even more terrified to get you out of the car and into our little apartment, because that meant that we were really in charge.

I remember crying a lot in those first few days and weeks. Motherhood was hard! And I felt so responsible! Responsible to feed you, to get you to sleep, and especially to make sure you were comfortable, and happy in this new, scary world. I loved you something fierce...even when your projectile poops reached 9 feet across the room.

Three years ago, I never dreamed that you would grow up to be a walking-talking-running-laughing-memorizing-brilliantly-talented little boy. I only saw the tightly swaddled, feisty little baby.

And my how you've grown! By your first birthday, you could say over 10 words. By your second, you could speak in 10 word sentences. Now, on your third, you're "reading" books. Your favorite to recite is Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak. I squeal with delight everytime I hear your cute little voice saying, "They ROARED their terrible roars, and gnashed their terrible teeth, and rolled their terrible eyes, and showed their terrible CLAWS!" You remember everything.

Parkercito, you have the ability to think and reason beyond your years. I give you two options and you choose the unspoken third. You're a master negotiator, with frequent bouts of defiance.

Yes, you are a stinker, and have yet to accomplish some of the goals I set for you for your third year. Yes, you've learned to poop and pee on the potty...but only on your own terms. You still growl. You also still sleep in a crib. (Daddy and I aren't ready for the independence you'll gain from a big-boy-bed.) But you're an amazing big brother, you have your colors straight, you say your own prayers, and you've given us daily hugs and kisses all year long. Four out of seven ain't bad. I've learned that some things just can't be forced...especially with an independently stubborn little boy.

You have an amazing zest for life. You love people, and people love you. You have a sense of humor, and work to make me laugh every day. You also have a tender heart, and hate to see anyone hurt or sad. When Daddy and I left you for eight glorious days last week, you were the one telling me not to cry.

I love having a constant chatter-box with me all day. You are a master conversationalist, and can keep the conversation going for hours. "So mom, how's your day?"

I'm not going to lie, it's been a rough year with a defiant, tantrum-throwing two-year old. But now that you've stepped beyond the terrible two's (most likely into the terrible three's), I feel mostly grateful for the chance I've had to witness the development of your fun little personality. You're one of my best friends, little buddy. If I had to choose someone to spend my day with, you'd be at the top of the list.

Happy Birthday! Let's hope that by next year you're officially out of diapers!

We love you little guy!

Love,

Mom and Dad