An Anniversary

I just kissed my 23-month-old for the last time.

When we wake up tomorrow, he'll be 2. I can't believe it. It seems like it was such a long time ago, and yet so recent.

This time two years ago, I was getting ready to go to bed. We were just getting home from grabbing a bite to eat after walking the mall for hours. I'd visited my kinesiologist earlier in the day, and contractions were picking up, but then they slowed down again.

I was tired, and we went to sleep at 10. If I manage to stay up until 11:30 tonight, I'll catch the exact anniversary of my waking into the last 6 hours of my labor. The long, long journey that brought me my beautiful firstborn son.

The baby whose small self fit so snugly into my arms is now a little boy who runs cars over my legs and runs around the house giggling madly at the sight of the cat on the porch. He sings his ABCs, he yells, "One, Two, Jump!" and plants his bum on the couch with a gigantic bounce. He gives his brother hugs and kisses, loves to go look at cars with Daddy, and climbs up beside me and pats my face as we doze off for our afternoon nap.

His name means, "Gracious gift of God." He truly is. I am so thankful for my little boy.

Happy Birthday N Myko!