Dear BC,
Today you are three. It feels like it was just yesterday when you were born. I can’t believe you’re becoming such a big boy so quickly.
This year you learned many things. You were potty trained in September. You learned to ride your tricycle in October, and the letters of the alphabet in January.
You are an incredibly intelligent young man, and I fear that you’ll pass me up intellectually sooner rather than later. What a scary thought for a mom!
Two weeks before Christmas, you went into our shed and saw the play kitchen that Santa would eventually bring you and your sister for Christmas. Mid January, I was reminding you to shut the doors to the kitchen nicely because Santa gave you this gift and we want to keep it nice.
You said, “No Mommy, Santa didn’t give this to me. It was in the shed. Remember? It was in the shed.”
You are very smart, and have a fantastic memory. Just two weeks ago, in June, we visited our local hardwood store and saw some sheds out front. You asked me, “Mommy, does Santa live in a shed?”
You have a very, very good memory. Have I mentioned this already?
Back in September, you had a traumatic accident to your tooth. I have a sneaking suspicion this will be one of your first memories. I believe this to be true because 9 months later you can still recount almost every detail, exactly as it happened.
We were at the park and you were sitting on one of those metal merry-go-rounds, minding your own business. This was your first experience on one and you were very excited. I was sitting yards away from you nursing your baby sister. I looked away from you for a split second just as 3–4 big kids jumped on the merry-go-around accompanied by a man. This man came up and pushed them, quickly.
He didn’t notice you.
Like it was yesterday, the scene plays again, and again in my head. I scream “hold on!!”, He pushes. You sit there on the edge smiling.
Bam, whack, thud your body gets thrust against the metal pole, onto the metal floor and then thrown forward into the tanbark.
At the same time, I heard myself screaming a guttural noise I’ve never heard myself make before. I leaped up setting (throwing really) your baby sister, blanket and all onto the ground as I ran to your rescue.
I’ve never been so scared in my life. And frankly, neither had you. You were gushing blood from your mouth. I was holding you as tightly as I could.
Men ran from all edges of the park, offering their shirts, their cars, anything and everything to help you. The man who pushed the merry-go-round looked as if he was going to throw up. He felt so awful.
I didn’t know what to do, so I called Daddy (our resident hero). He rushed, at mock speed, from downtown to to the park. From there we took your sister to Grandma’s house and you to the hospital.
It turns out that all that you were very lucky that day. Your tooth was shoved back up into your gums and a bit chipped. Yes, only one tooth. Amazing.
That night you remember daddy turning on a siren in front of Grandma’s house and Grandma having a fit.
I had forgotten this part of the story until I heard you recount it in March.
We’ve been visiting the dentist every few months expecting to have that poor tooth of yours pulled. But you know what? Just weeks ago, it began to fall back into place.
Now that is pretty cool!
Although this story is one that I’ll remember for a lifetime, and we’ll laugh about as we tell it to your future spouse, I’ll also remember this year as the year you transitioned from baby/toddler, to little boy.
You are quite a kid.
You never stop talking.
You are very curious and extremely respectful.
You always say, please, thank you and give endless compliments.
You are constantly thinking, remembering, and asking questions about everything.
You never, ever stop talking.
Ever.
But I suppose I wouldn’t have it any other way. You are my son. And I am proud of you.
Happy Birthday BC!
Love,
Mommy
