What Is Time, Even? (Ruminations on my Son’s Third Birthday)

Greetings Bookworms!

Guess how many books I read last week. No really, guess. ZERO! That’s right folks, it was a slow reading week. We had a couple of no-nap days AND the good sir turned 3. As a result, my reading was limited. I still read, of course, but I didn’t finish anything. Still plugging away at Harrow the Ninth (so completely banana pants) and Wicked and the Wallflower. Since I don’t really have books to tell you about, I’m just going to post some pictures of my birthday boy and word vomit feelings. Cool?

I have a very vivid memory from when Sam was like 8 days old. I was googling something. Probably baby sleep schedules or the appropriate color of baby poop or baby acne. Anyway. Regardless of the question, the answer according to Dr. Google was that whatever I was concerned about would resolve somewhat by the time he was 6 weeks old. I nearly cried when I read that because my hormone fueled sleep deprived brain thought 6 weeks sounded SO FAR AWAY. I believe the cliche goes something like “the days are long but the years are short.” It’s the sort of phrase I’d cringe to see on a decorative sign: I’m bitter about the truth of it, I guess.

THREE YEARS. What is time, even?! We’ve reached the unofficial end of the baby stage (in my mind, anyway). He’s a whole kid with a personality and complex emotions and an impressive vocabulary. I’ve been working from home with Sammers since the pandemic got rolling in mid-March. Daycare re-opened in June but I haven’t felt safe sending him back yet (that’s not an indictment of the daycare, just the inevitability of infection despite everyone’s best efforts.) Thanks to my job being super supportive, I’m free to keep working from home with him for the time being. Whenever I get down about how hard it all is or how there are no good choices, Sam will do some cool new thing, and I’m reminded that having a front row seat to his milestones is pretty sweet. His imaginative play is SUCH a joy to watch. He’s always been very verbal (aggressively so, if I’m being honest) so it’s hysterical to watch him narrate the games he’s playing.

I’m a huge proponent of people expressing their feelings on motherhood, because it’s not often perfect and Instagram worthy. Everyone’s situation is different and everyone’s experience is different and it’s totally fine to have moments where you’re miserable or think wistfully of your pre-children life. That said, no matter how awful a day we’re having, there isn’t a single one that goes by without my being utterly delighted by this boy. Like, he might have thrown several tantrums throughout the day, yelled at me that I don’t understand him (yeah that happened yesterday), and told me to “stop saying” while I was in the middle of a work meeting (also yesterday), but EGADS I just love this kid so much. His very existence feels like magic and I’m trying so hard to soak up all the snuggles and silliness. It’s been a wild ride, but such a fun one. Happy Birthday, Buddy. I hope you can somehow feel every bit of my delight in you.

You knock me out, I fall apart.