My first baby

My little boy turned three yesterday...which has me more than a little sad. Instead of pacifiers and diapers, now everywhere I turn there are trains, matchbox cars, Disney movies, and a whole new three-year old attitude.

Three years ago...
My husband and I had only been married six months (do the math, it was a "shotgun" wedding as they say here in Texas) and were very scared at how our lives were changing so rapidly. We went from dating to parenthood in what now seems like the blink of an eye. The baby was a week overdue, and my mood was pretty grouchy as a consequence of that. The doctors scheduled me to be induced the next morning, which I was vehemently against but felt like there was no other option. That night we went to The River Pub and Grill in San Marcos to eat, and on the way home, I felt like I had eaten too many fish tacos! Later that night, I decided that yes, I was really in labor, and it was getting worse all the time. Bret drove quick as lightning up to Austin, where my hospital was, (45 minutes away), but it was NOT quick enough for me. When we arrived, after 1 in the morning, they found out I was already 7 centimeters dilated. For those of you who haven't given birth, that meant only 3 more centimeters to go. I FINALLY got an epidural, only to have to push 10 minutes later. 3 hours later, after a lot of work, Grayson arrived in the world. I will never forget what it was like to hold my son in my arms, who only moments before, was completely part of me. I was so scared, I couldn't even change his first diaper. He was so small and perfect, and mine, and I felt a shift in my entire being that changed the way thought, loved, and existed. I love my family, I love my husband, but the instant he was born, I knew that I would give my life for my son.

It seems like the last three years have gone by too quickly. I try not to get upset that my babies are growing up and independent faster than I want them to, and instead try to cherish each new step and accomplishment they make. Memories of the last three years whirl through my head when I look at my Grayson...
grabbing his toes and sucking on them at 5 months, saying dada first, snuggling with him at my breast, sleeping on daddy's chest, crawling around the island in the kitchen, calling for me from his crib, singing "Beautiful boy" to him every night as he went to sleep, walking, then running, 1 to 2 going by in a flash, now he is a preschooler, who will go to school in two short years. I'm so glad that he's mine.