Today is our biggest little cowboy’s third birthday, and all of the cliches are true. I can’t believe how fast time has gone, I can’t imagine life without him, he’s the funniest little boy I’ve ever met, and he will always, always have my heart as the boy who made me a mama.
Three years ago at the time this post is published, I was tired after having been up since the very wee hours with what I suspected were actual labor pains (I was right). I was fussing about my hospital bag, and whether or not it was actually time to head to the hospital (it was). We didn’t know that it was going to be a long day, and that I should have eaten more for breakfast and maybe stopped at Starbucks on the way into town, or that just after eleven that night we’d be a family of three, all of a sudden. We did know, though, that it was a big day, maybe the day, and we were so right.
Our Wacey James is a chocolate-loving, giggling, ranchy goofball. He spends his days playing with anything with wheels, making up stories about his toys, reading books, visiting the horses, getting up to hijinks outside, eating snacks, palling around with me and Buster in the stroller or with daddy is the pickup, and watching movies since that’s the only way we can get this busy boy to slow down. He’s constantly looking after Buster (to make sure he’s safe and also not playing with any of his favorite toys), making him laugh, and letting us know when he’s up to no good with a very loud “Oh no Buster!”
He’s got his colors down, and we’re almost there on numbers (seven and nine are elusive), and he’s so excited about letters–he’s got W (“double Wacey”) and B (“B Buster”) down, and since he’s now memorizing his books and telling them back to us I bet the other 24 letters aren’t far behind. He’s not potty trained but I’m not fussed in the slightest–this boy learns and does everything in his own time, and when he’s got something down, that’s the end of it, so I know it’ll happen sooner or later and I won’t push him because it’s never once helped. He never crawled, and has run since he figured out to walk and has been talking a mile a minute since he learned how to speak.
Wacey has always been an easygoing sweetheart. He’s three, which means we have our fair share of fits and tantrums, and his palate is…limited, but even when he’s in a sour mood, his fallback is exuberant and it rubs off on all of us. I love how he walks into our room in the morning and says “Awake.” with this silly little smile, and his next words are to ask for breakfast. Or how he gets this specific look on his face when he’s asking for something he knows is a long shot, or how he reminds me regularly that Gaucho is not a toy, he’s an animal, after we had a conversation about how he can’t just assume Gaucho is going tolerate being treated as a practice bronc. He says the funniest things, like most toddlers, but of course I’m convinced he’s the funniest. He just ran into my room and yelled “TEXAS!” because that, for some reason, is what he calls “Bob Wills is Still the King,” and he wants to dance, and of course I’m off to go do that immediately.
I could go on and on about this sweet boy forever. But, I’ll leave it here, and say happy birthday to my first born, my blue-eyed boy who looks just like his daddy. I’m so excited to celebrate you, sweet boy, today and at your party this weekend, and every day in between and after that.