Two years ago you came into this world. About half an hour after midnight you made your appearance, and at first I didn’t know what to think. I wasn’t sure if I would be able to give birth vaginally after having a C-section with your brother, but then again there you were – purple and screaming and precious and beautiful.
I looked at your dad and immediately said, “I think his name is Austin.” We were back and forth between two names for you prior to your birth, but he agreed at once. You were Austin. All along.
You were not happy about no longer being in my warm cozy belly, and you were not afraid to let the entire room of doctors and nurses know it. That’s one thing that hasn’t changed – you aren’t afraid to speak your mind, to let us know how you feel. You’re a very passionate boy, and when you love something you really love it. And when you dislike something? You reallllllly dislike it, and vocally I might add. You wear your heart on your sleeve, and I adore that about you.
The few hours after birth are a blur to me. I was exhausted beyond belief and passed out, while your dad stayed by your side the whole time. I remember waking up and being told to go to the bathroom, and then afterward wondering where you were. They brought you in to me to start eating, and honestly? You haven’t left my side ever since!
The first few months are still such a blur for me. You roared into this world so unexpectedly early that I had zero time to plan things, whatever that means. I should know by this point that best-laid plans seldom come to fruition. Nursing and schedules and sleep became the tornado of activity that I lived in, and I wouldn’t change a thing…but man it was hard. The only song you would sleep to your first few weeks of life was “Renegade” by X Ambassadors. I was concerned that might be an omen; now I know it was, but in the sweetest way possible. Some of my favorite moments from those months came in the middle of the night. Nursing you alone in the dim light, holding you close and breathing in your smell, rocking you back to sleep – those moments are so dear to me.
Lately you’ve been exploding into learning in every way possible. You love to run so much, but at the moment it’s more of a lumber with the occasional skip thrown in. You lean into your “run” with your chest puffed up and your arms airplaned back, hurdling head-first into whatever mischief you’re looking to get into. You’ve been this way since the beginning, this full-force all-in head-first attitude. It’s a source of great joy and sometimes great frustration for me, but I wouldn’t change it for anything. The way you approach life is such a breath of fresh air for your over-the-top careful mama. I may have a few (hundred) extra grey hairs from your adventures though!
You love to talk and learn at least 5 new words every day. Your brother loves to hear you try to say things, and challenges you with random phrases every time we drive somewhere. Sometimes you indulge him and try to say what he says, other times you respond with a simple, “NO I NOT!” and move along. You’ve mastered the art of cursing already, although the words you’re really trying to say are ‘shirt’ and ‘fire truck’ and ‘diamond.’ Sometimes when you burst out with it in public I blush a little, but deep down I think it’s hilarious.
When we go to the grocery store you make it impossible for anyone to miss you yelling, “HELLO!” at them. You have such a way with older people, bringing smiles and light to their faces. You’re an incredible flirt, which worries me, but it’s cute when it’s with little old ladies. You love helicopters and fire trucks and police cars and trains; I didn’t even know there was a difference between a tractor and a backhoe until you came along!
Speaking of hilarious, you know what isn’t? The fact that you pooped all over the floor last night then stepped in it and walked all over the house. It wasn’t your shining moment (or mine either for that matter) but you’re so charismatic that I immediately forgot about it after everything was cleaned up. While we’re at it, that’s not the first time you’ve done that – last summer you did the same thing in your grandparents’ kitchen while everyone was eating dinner. Let’s just say there isn’t much your mischievous little grin can’t get you out of at this point.
My son, you have changed my life for the better every moment since I knew you were in my womb. You’ve tested and tried me, forced me to ease up, speed up and slow down, all at once. You get cuter with every passing day, which is saying a lot because you’ve been really cute from the beginning. I am so proud of the way you leap into life, the way you’re willing to try almost anything, the way you passionately pursue the things you love…already. You have made all of our lives richer and more beautiful, and I am forever grateful to God that He would bless us with you. Happy birthday, beautiful boy, I can’t wait to be your mama forever!