I hope that I'm still around when he's old enough to appreciate them, but honestly, I started doing it with the idea that if anything happened to me while he was growing up, that he'd have a piece of me. That he'd be able to read how much I love him and what my thoughts were at the time. The happiness and joy, the struggles and challenges. He would be able to see what I saw in him. I think it's a good idea, and I really need to get that five-year-old one written. But it's hand-written, so I won't write it here. And really, it's between us. :)
However, I do want to document Ethan's birthday because FIVE is such a big one. And so, I'll do just that in pictures.
My little jaundiced bug the day after we brought him home. So tiny, so sweet, so hungry! He didn't want to be anywhere but in our arms and would not sleep unless one of us was right next to him.
Ethan at a year old at the Anderson House, the same place Clint and I married. I walked out this door to begin my life with the man I love. It seems fitting that Ethan is marching across the entry all boisterous and loud, just the same way he entered our lives.
At two, he was so full of energy and laughter. He was talking up a storm and filling our world with so much of..well...everything. He still slept with us most nights at this point.
At three, I began to realize Ethan was always going to be "more" of everything. He was so full of life and so chatty and so inquisitive. He was not, however, a soccer player.
Probably one of my favorite pictures. He's just over four in this picture and all that baby chubbiness is gone. He's all boy and looks it here. Challenging, frustrating, stimulating, sweet, and loving best describes my four year old.
And five. FIVE. He looks bigger and more like a "boy" here than in any of the other pictures. His legs are longer. His hands are bigger. His voice is older. His words are more pronounced. Yet, he's still my little boy. He still wants to be held. He still wants to be snuggled. He still wants help getting dressed in the morning. He still wants me sitting in the bathroom when he takes a bath. He's still all the things he was last year and some of the things he was the year before, but he's also more. He's older. He gets his own milk when he wants to. He makes his own sandwiches when he desires. He's growing more and more independent by the day. At least I have another year before he goes off to kindergarten.
Happy birthday, my sweet Ethan. You are a joy.