Happy Birthday, Baby

Tucker is turning 2 tomorrow. Two years since he came into this world, on the day after Thanksgiving 2004. I had big plans to enjoy some turkey and pecan pie, but ended up getting sick and nauseated after two bowls of Frosted Flakes that morning, and it was all downhill from there. I was suppposed to be induced on his birthday, but went into labor on my own and was already well on the way when I arrived at St. Joseph's hospital at around six in the morning. Anyway. Tucker is turning two, and if you know us, you know that it was a rough year, at least for two weeks in the middle of it when he was so sick. But I don't want to dwell on that. It happened, and it was terrible, but he's all better now and full of that robust, endless energy of toddler boys. Run, run, run all day, and then crash into bed at night.

I want to celebrate this beautiful boy, this little charmer. I'm so fascinated by the sweetness of this little boy. It's like this rich vein of sugary goodness running right through the core of his personality -- his sweetness and loving nature. How a little boy who loves to cuddle with his mommy and give her big wet smacking kisses can eventually turn into a macho guy who grabs his crotch whilst reaching for the remote and /or a beer is a strange process, but I'm thrilled to have this front row seat to see how it all happens. I dare you not to agree that he's destined to be quite the heartbreaker, no? Plus, he a Sagittarius, like his mama, and I already know what unrepentant flirts we can be. Watch out, ladies of the world.

Happy Birthday, my dear little boy. I hope it's a fabulous year of sunshine and laughter and music and lots of playing with your beloved trucks & cars. And lots more chocolate pudding, too.