Three

Today my youngest son turns 3 years old!  It's so crazy for me to think about.  In one way, it feels like ages and ages ago that he was actually born.  His was the absolute easiest labor I've ever had.  The contractions barely even hurt!  The delivery, however, was another story entirely.  Mostly due to his aforementioned head, which is the size of a VW bug.

He was my biggest baby at 7 pounds, 4oz and 21.5 inches long.  Bigger by almost a full pound than his brother, and they wear almost the same size to this day.  He is a chunky monkey, and his cheeks are chubby and they get quite a lot of kisses.  I relish every single one of those kisses, cuz I know he won't let me do that forever.

When he was just 6 weeks old he was hospitalized with RSV, which is no fun at all.  Luckily he recovered just fine and is a healthy, happy bouncing boy today!

Even though I suffered debilitating postpartum depression after his birth, which is still not completely resolved, the Lord knew what he was doing when he gave me this baby.  He was such a happy baby and he loved to cuddle, which I desperately needed during those first 7 months of, for lack of a better word, hell. Seven months.  That's how long it was before I figured out what was wrong and was able to get help.  Postpartum Psychosis.  THAT is something I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy.

He really is my Sunshine, and even though he throws 29 tantrums a day, he makes up for it when he says very soberly, "I'm really sorry, mom" and then flings his arms around my neck and kisses my cheek for all he's worth. (I have no idea where he learned THAT from.) ;-)

He is so loving and super quick to apologize.  Usually. He is still a toddler, after all. ;-) 

The boy has a fairly good vocabulary and sometimes catches me off guard with the things he says.  I blame his fairly good vocabulary on his older brother and sister. :-D  Like when he shouts, "DANG IT!" if he does something wrong or is frustrated.  Or if he's so mad that he can't even think straight and bursts out with, "YOU ARE.... UHHHH.... A BOY!" as if that was the insult of the year.  Because, you know, I'm a GIRL.  Or when my phone alarm goes off and he hears the music and shouts, "SHAKE YOUR BOOTY!" while he shakes his little booty and dances around the house with a grin from ear to ear on his face.

He is definitely a mama's boy, and I can't say that I mind it.  I will snuggle with him for as long as he'll let me. 

Happy Birthday, my sweet boy!