Atticus is Three

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The day started with pancakes with sprinkles and opening gifts. Then the hustle and bustle of cleaning and tidying and prepping food. Atticus was a big boy and went to the yard to help his daddy: they raked and hauled and worked. Hope baked the birthday cupcakes. I prepped sandwiches and baked a coffeecake. We all tried to keep an eye on a very active Persy Jane. Even Atticus helped, he went in front of her moving toys, putting away shoes, and picking up teeny bits of paper so she wouldn’t choke on something.

After nap Atticus chose his birthday party attire — his Spider Man costume — and we put all the food on the table. Our framily — Shannon, Amy, and Koa — came by early and that was delightful. I swallowed my fears and let Atticus ride on a four-wheeler (with assistance, of course) while wearing a helmet and going at a snail’s pace. Other friends arrived and the kids played in the yard, the adults drank coffee and cooed at Persy, and everything was relaxed and happy.

Oddly enough, I didn’t cry at this birthday. I cried when he turned one and when he turned two. I felt like he was moving away from me… growing up… changing too rapidly… and even though I know he is a big boy and is quickly leaving behind toddler and approaching kid this birthday felt different. I was too busy being caught up in his joy, listening to the hysterical conversations among three year old boys, and watching his eyes light up over a simple vanilla cupcake with sprinkles.

Oh there were meltdowns and tantrums and leaping off of dangerous things and not sharing and running towards the road and all the other things that make three such a challenge. Underneath that emotional tot facade is one of the sweetest hearts I know. He cries because he feels all the feelings; his feelings and he feels deeply for others. The best way to illustrate would be to tell you what happened last night. I tucked Atticus in and left the bedroom and about ten minutes later he called me back in there. “Is Persy playing in the livingroom?” “Yes, she is playing and will go to bed soon”, I responded. Then Atticus said in his sweet, little voice, “then pick up my legos so she doesn’t hurt her piggytoes.” Precious boy. I promised to watch over Persy and then he snuggled down under the covers and went to sleep.

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Happy birthday, Atticus Man. I’ll eat you up I love you so.

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One comment

  1. Awwwww. That is so sweet. Happy Birthday to your little man! (I’m not on twitter, but I saw your feed…consider my geeky hand raised to the “making plans/lists for 2014.”)

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