Happy Half Birthday To You

All I am going to say on the matter is that with a healthy LT and a healthy Gates, the outcome may have been different. And, while I am not saying that they aren't a phenomenal team, they are cheaters. Maybe not today and maybe not yesterday, but cheating is in their repertoire. Perhaps they don't deserve an asterisk next to their probable perfect 19-0 season. But consider that, perhaps, they do. It's not just because they beat the Chargers today, I've been saying that since September. And really, that's all I'm going to write on the matter. Quiet Troy, this is my blog, if you want to talk about how the cheating didn't play in to their perfect season, start your own. I'm sure you'd have a huge fan base in Foxborough.

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In other, non sour grapes news, my son is one and a half years old today. My mind has an extremely difficult time comprehending that he's been a squawking, pooping, giggling part of our lives for eighteen months. Because, in almost every single way, it feels like this was just yesterday...

I've said it before and I will say it again and again and again, when he was born, he stared at me like he had known me forever. In some ways it felt so foreign and almost eerie to stare into the eyes of my flesh and blood but in all the ways that mattered it was as though I had known him for so much longer than mere seconds. In his face I saw the years of prayers and petitions I had sent to Heaven and becoming a mother took absolutely no getting used to. It was just as though it was something that had always been. I can say with certainly that no experience has moved me so completely than the birth of my son.

In the past year and a half, I have learned that the world is a much louder place with him in it. He has not quite mastered the "indoor voice" and his shrieking through WalMart can attest to that. I have learned that no matter how great an eater my nine month old may have been, my eighteen month old will turn his nose up at macaroni and cheese, even though he devoured it yesterday. I have learned that nothing is a more rewarding sound than the deep belly laugh of my toddler, and I'll do anything to warrant such a laugh. Yes, even dance around my house like a giant buffoon singing at the top of my lungs, theatre major style. I have learned that every animal barks or smells like a skunk and that's okay, for now. I have learned that my heart is now toddling around outside of my body and I will do anything to protect that heart. I have learned that I don't really want to French kiss my son, but he couldn't care less. I have learned that it's easier to write a blog without him sitting on me, but it's not nearly as heartwarming. I have learned that all those months of praying were well worth it. I wouldn't trade the sleepless nights early on, the lack of napping for the first six months, the pickiness, and the stubborn streak. Not if, in return, I get a fuzzy blonde head laying on my shoulder, or a chubby little hand holding my own. These past eighteen months have, indeed, been the best of my life. Hands down. No discussion. I am head over heels, mad, crazy in love, with a little man, and the husband who shares him with me.