Piggy Popper

Owen got a really fun Piggy Popper for his birthday. We have had a blast playing with it, we even have a song we made up about it. Gillen thinks it's hysterical.

This baby seriously is like this all day every day - it's THE BEST.

Today you are THREE.

Dearest Owen,

Two was a remarkable year. In two you shed every lingering minute of babyness in a sprint towards being a kid. We saw the world through your eyes and everything was new and exciting for us all.

At the beginning of two you still nursed to sleep in my arms. I rocked you in the calm of your room and watched your lashes flutter as you slept. You weaned and that last nursing session will be with me forever. I thought perhaps you'd need me less, when in fact you needed me more. Anytime you were scared, tired or frustrated you would climb on my lap and your warm cheeks would find their place on my skin, just under my collar bone. And we rocked and rocked.

As my belly swelled with signs of your brother, you and I had the most beautiful summer I've ever had in my entire life.

You learned to run, skip and jump.

You learned to sing. SO MUCH SINGING.

You asked "why?" so many times my head would spin. But I felt more and more like instead of talking at you, I was talking with you. We were a little team and you narrated my every move, never missing a step.

In the middle of two you were forced to share my time and my patience, but not my love. This was a hard transition for all of us. Thankfully you adore your baby brother and you are quite possibly his favorite person in the whole wide world. You tested our love with tears and strong will. You shut us out and begged for us to be closer all at once. In the the months after bringing Gillen home, at night we spoke only of you. We worried and questioned because you were the one we knew best, the one who could tell us and show us that you were hurting. You are the one who made us parents. I birthed and fed and cared for your brother effortlessly, because you taught me to be a mother.

And yet, I'm still learning. We're both learning.

I don't know if it was two or the birth of your brother, but you grew into something more. Someone bigger and brighter. Your words are miles ahead of your heart and I often forget there are traces of you that are still so small and unknowing. The days are long when we butt heads at every turn, and I'm sure there are many more to come. You are finding your place and I have to weave a web of limits and freedoms for you to live in. Everyday you make me examine myself, my entire lifetime of how I love and have been loved, so that I can translate through my words and actions the kind of person I want to raise you to be.

You still ask to be rocked every night. Stories are by far your favorite thing in the world and you will sit and listen to books for hours. You have friendships and imagination, determination and wit. In the months leading up to your third birthday you decided you wanted to use the potty and never looked back. There was no incentive, no training - just as you have since you were an infant, you decided what and when you will achieve a milestone. If there were an owners manual for you it would say this: "Owen will do [_______ ] when he is ready, not a moment sooner. Don't fret."

I wish you could remember how much and how hard I loved you this year. I wish you could know how much you've changed me. How comfortable I am in my skin because every day I revel in being your Mama. You won't remember these moments but they are shaping who you will become. Keep your gentle spirit, your independent will and your scrunchy nose smile. They will take you places when I no longer do.

I love you more than all of the stars in the sky. All the stars.

Mama

More thoughts on three years of motherhood here at Kveller.com