Up until a few days ago, people would ask me how old Hudson was, and I’d start to do some very complicated math. “Let’s see he’s 23 months, three weeks, five days…annnnd 13 hours.”
Now that he’s two I can finally cut it out with that month crap.
But I don’t know if I’m ready to let go of that babiness you get when you count each month. It’s as if you pat yourself on the back for surviving each arduous 30 day stretch. Each time you complete a new month you’re out of breath, two pounds heavier, and you discover a new piece of crap smeared somewhere on your clothing. A new month becomes synonymous with a gold medal.
But now everything is less new and Hudson is less of a baby.
He’s TWO. It’s like POOF! All of a sudden he’s a kid now.
I suppose if I wanted to, I can keep it up. You know, that whole counting the months business.
Oh, he’s so cute, how old is he?
Thanks, he’s 24 months.
Um no, actually he’s 24 months.
True story, I was at a park and met a mother who told me her daughter was 33 months. What? What does that even mean? I looked at her like she was speaking creole and asked me if I wanted a bowl of snake soup.
Huh? So 12 goes into 33 um…two times with a remainder of who the hell cares.
I pretended like I got a phone call and then avoided eye contact with her for the rest of our park-time. It was the right thing to do.
I remember when I was pregnant with Hudson and I kept worrying that I wouldn’t love him nearly as much I as love Berlyn. Like we’d get a dog house and put it in the garage, and that’s where he’d sleep. I was so wrapped up with the fact that I had one child, much like I have one husband, and I didn’t think I had any more room in my heart.
Crazy thing about children, is your love capacity just gets bigger. I was thinking about it all wrong, I thought I just had one cup to fill up and because it was already brimming over with love for Berlyn, I couldn’t possibly fit more in, but instead I got a whole new cup to fill up. Cheers to that.
Or maybe you don’t like the cup analogy. Maybe you’re more of a tech person, so for you, I got another hard drive to fill up with data.
Well however you slice it, I got more. Like that guy on TLC that has 4 wives, except with him, instead of feeling all warm and fuzzy, you feel creepy and dirty.
Hudson is my squishy snuggler. He’s sweet and precious and always gives me a warm hug, except if I ask for it, then he says nope. And that’s cool. I appreciate his straightforwardness and honesty.
All he wanted was a cukcape for his birthday, and when it was finally time to eat it, this was how he decided to take it down it.
Happy birthday Hudson Jack. I love your sweet spirit, your gentle heart, and your patience. You are so loving. You’re funny, and helpful. I love to have a conversation with you, you listen attentively and say, “okay mommy.” You love to read books, play with your sister, and throw cars down the hallway. You have a love/hate relationship with the dog, and honestly we all do. You hate having your diaper changed, and wearing clothes, I can relate, because I think pants are the worst, unless they’re stretchy. You like to sit and paint, and I can already see your potential for the arts. I love your dazzling blue eyes and your adorable giggles. You are a joy and a dream come true. I love you more every day.
Happy birthday my sweet Hudson.