Five.

Mason,

Happy birthday baby!! Today you are five. FIVE. FIVE. FIVE. FIVE. FIVE. It is weird to even type that.

FIVE.

A whole HAND FULL. (Not to be confused with a handful, which you often are as well.) Though it's just five fingers it's so much more than that. Five years makes for a lot of memories. A handful of years, a heart full of joyous, chaotic moments. Surprisingly, it didn't really sneak up on me like past birthdays. Years past each birthday was bittersweet. Another year we'd made it. Another year you'd thrived. Another year flew by. This year isn't any different.

WE MADE IT.
YOU THRIVED.
AND IT FLEW BY.

But in its own way it is different.

Five is a little different. With five comes kindergarten. Let me just tell you what a BIG DEAL Kindergarten is these days. For nearly every parent of a four year old I know this is the topic of discussion. There are reoccurring themes in these conversations, the most popular -- anxiety. Followed closely by fear paired with excitement. Unknowns. Hysteria. And here is where I admit to you that I am not really that sad about it. I feel a little guilty, because for years the mere thought of you turning five panicked me. Just hearing the word kindergarten made me worried, perhaps anxious is a better word.
OKAY....it made me come TOTALLY UNGLUED.

But magically with the nearing of five...I think we are ready. But I can't help but wonder did I  DID WE do enough? Did we build enough puzzles? Paint enough with our fingers? Did I snuggle you long enough when you'd drift off to sleep? Did I watch your tiny little sighs while you were napping? I second guess myself often. Did I laugh hard enough when you first started telling me stories? I replay afternoons in my head. I question did we build tall enough towers? Watch enough Pixar films? Did I listen? I heard you, but did I really listen when you asked questions about dinosaurs and volcanoes? And better yet, were my answers sufficient? Did I read enough nursery rhymes? Sing enough lullabies? Did I let you get muddy? Jump in murky puddles? Did I take enough pictures? Film enough memories? Because I can't forget those things, they aren't coming back. Because I don't WANT TO FORGET them. Because they were  are ours. Did I prepare you? Did I spend the five years that I was given with you wisely? Abundantly? And most of the times the answer is yes.

But sometimes I wonder.

And so I accept that the afternoons won't still get to be spent in pajamas, or me whispering I love you as you fall in to a deep 1:00 PM slumber. Instead, we'll spend them building Lego ships after school, hearing about your day, reading new stories, making new friends. I'll probably still whisper I love you. But the good thing about FIVE is you say it back. And you know what it means. And it means so much more coming from a FIVE YEAR OLD who gets it. You totally get it.

This year you've blossomed in a new way. You have matured. Your questions now have purpose. You fill your role as biggest brother in ways I never imagined a five year old could.You play harder, sleep harder. You talk faster, you stand taller, you laugh louder. You jump higher, you eat more, OH MY GOODNESS YOU EAT MORE. People always joke when they see me grocery shopping with you and your brothers. Just wait until they are teenagers. Wow three boys, you are going to need a part time job to pay for groceries once they reach high school. Ummm, why yes, thank you. But what about now? Because they are two and five. And this chubby one, he's not even ONE. And I think I should probably just buy a cow. And a chicken. And a field full of wheat maybe.

You really understand things. You have started to read. You have started to write. You take pride in your drawings and you should, because your artwork is awesome. You draw elaborate scenes, filled with people. People who don't really have have clothing or bodies, but these kick ass people HAVE FINGERS. And tiny little heads with eyes as big as quarters. And I love them.

I absolutely love those little people, because you drew them. They are your signature masterpiece. And you are mine. My masterwork, my showpiece, my gem. You started as this small little empty canvas and now your canvas is painted with personality, coated with curiosity. A true masterpiece we call Mason. Ornate, yet simple. Dazzling. Simply stunning. And just like you do for your works of art, I too take pride.

So much pride that it bursts at my seams. The pride overflows the arch of my lips and sneaks up the corners of my mouth  in to a gigantic beaming smile of delight. Delightful pride. All because of you. I am proud of you today. I am proud of your yesterdays, your last Thursdays, your two, three and four year old feats. And I will be proud of your tomorrow. For always.

I asked you what you thought about turning five. You didn't seem really enthusiastic, but you reminded me that once you were five (umm, hello you already are...as in today is your BIRTHDAY and that's when you turn a year old...) you'd have to go to kindergarten. And you wanna know what that means Mom? Umm, well first of all I hope it doesn't mean you are going to start calling me MOM. Not ready for that jelly. Mmmmkay? It means that I have to be good. After much discussion of the fact that I already thought you were pretty good, you reassured me you'd have to be good-er.

Oh okay. Awesome. On that note...I think I'm going to like five. So long as being gooder means less whining than accompanied the sweet age of four. I also hope that your kindergarten teacher is ready for some grammar lessons and such. Perhaps we missed that lesson amongst the painting and Pixar movies? Gooder? Seriously?

When you blew out your candles this morning I hope you wished big. Today is YOUR DAY. We are celebrating you. The bigger, older, sweet you. The gooder you, Mase. 


Happy birthday to our baby boy.

Loving you more then the day we met,
Mommy (IWILLNEVERBEMOM).

2 {Max}

Max,

Oh sweet boy. You turned two this morning. I can't even believe it happened so quickly. The minute your floppy little body landed on my chest when you were born, I knew one day you'd laugh and run. I knew one day you'd turn a year old. And then you'd be two. I knew it would happen. But as always the year flew by and it happened a little too quickly. Your cheeks have slimmed over the last few months, your face is fighting to look like a boy not a baby, but your hands and your delicious thighs are clinging to more familiar tunes of toddler hood. And for once, I'm not complaining about all things chubby. Last night I procrastinated laying you down, bedtime was nearly two hours late - I was trying to avoid the obvious. But the time kept ticking and morning came. And two, well two years old, still happened.

You're language is erupting. It seems like each day brings a new word. One of my favorite things about you is the way you talk, your lips are plump and simply adorable. The way you purse them together to make words melts me. We've been practicing Happy Birthday with you and now it's your favorite song. I'm pretty sure you think it's a game. Immediately following the last line of the chorus, you begin blowing. Imaginary candles? Sure why not after all it is your birthday.

The minute you wake up in the morning you are giggling. You clutch to your blanket and still suck your thumb, but the minute we arrive at the bottom of the stairs you start asking for breakfast. Your breakfast of choice - COOKIES. You love yogurt and cereal too. Most morning you lick your bowl dry. A foodie in the making.

You have a new found love for swimming. I guess that would come natural for a summer baby. Some mornings you get all excited and bring me your swimsuit and loudly repeat "mem-ming, mem-ming!" Luckily for you we do go swimming most everyday.

 You are spirited. Determined. Full of life. God forbid someone try and assist you in getting down from your chair or out of your car seat. The phrase of the month - "DIE DO". Obviously, you got the memo that two means independence. You are ready to move out and start  live on your own. Most days you refuse any sort of help, which leads to backward shoes and shorts, major bedhead and a face encrusted in donut icing.

You love splashing during bath time, snuggling during nap time, and laughing pretty much all the time. You have a special little spunk in your step that makes you all the more YOU.

I can't believe you've been here twenty four whole months, yet I can't remember life without you. Two years gone and many more to come. My birthday wish for you is lots more giggles, many more sleepy slumbers, heaps of sloppy kisses, hundreds more brotherly quarrels and most of all that you keep marching to the beat of your own drummer.

I love you more then I knew was possible. I love you with every ounce of my being and every beat of my heart. I love you to the moon and back. Always and forever.

 Happy second birthday baby boy!

rodeo and bday party.

Last weekend, before sick-fest 2011 struck us, we were super busy. We went to the rodeo, which Mason insists is really "the radio". The main attraction....pig races. And a turkey leg. Mason and Max's favorite parts, respectively speaking. Of course, Max's favorite part was the turkey leg. We almost tried the chicken fried BACON. But we resisted the urge. Mason would live on bacon if we let him, I'm afraid if I let him taste it fried, we'd never hear the end of it.

We pigged out on Frito pies, homemade kettle corn, and snow cones! Delicious treats all around. The boys wore fun cowboy hats, but stood out like sore thumbs. We are not country folk, yo.

The weather was gorgeous. Mason rode his first pony! Well I think it was his first pony ride. If not it's at least the first documented ride, therefore, I can claim it as his first. We passed on letting Max ride it, even though he really loves horses. Second to elephants (and maybe dogs) it's his favorite animal. It's my favorite animal noise he makes too, the way he smacks his little tongue against the roof of his mouth and shakes his head - perfection. So he did what little brothers do,  watched jealously. GIDDY UP.

His party was total insanity. He loved every minute of it. I'm not sure when this little man got so many friends - but there were babies, toddlers, preschoolers GALORE. Jumping, running, screaming, hyper as can be through the entire two hour party. We sent everyone home with some of the birthday boys favorite goodies
, gummy worms and bubbles! I mean who are we kidding, those are some of everyone's faves, right??

He really wanted a monster party and I thought the theme would be precious and an easy task to tackle. It proved semi difficult, but we had fun little cupcake toppers, an awesome cake courtesy of Ita, the cutest shirts EVER and a monster of a time. Okay, that was incredibly cheesy.

 

The party and the rodeo were some highlights of February. But beware because next year, I might sneak some fried bacon.

it's my birthday!

Well, it was. Last week I celebrated my birthday and it was so awesome. I'm not sure if being with all my family or the Snickers cheesecake made it so kick ass, but I'm thinking maybe it was the combo, but a little more nougatocity. That's a real word, in fact, it's in the dictionary...the Urban Dictionary. Nougatocity often occurs during or at the end of eating a wonderfully delicious Snickers candy bar. Or cheesecake. Yum.

We celebrated at La Gloria Ice House. The food was yummy, the atmosphere was bustling and the company was impeccable. My kids even ate their whole meal with minimal fussing. Mase was partially enthralled with an iPhone from Aunt Yaya and Max was fully spoiled in the arms of his grandmas (who had too much fun wearing superhero capes). Allegedly.

Everyone enjoyed too much food and cold, refreshing margaritas (except the birthday girl). I can't believe I thought Mexican food sans margaritas or imported beer was a good idea when pregnant. But I did it. My margarita was nougat. Or something close to it...pretty much as intoxicating.

It's funny how when you get older birthday's mean more, because you realize they only come once a year and a year is a long time and it's kind of like this huge reflection of how busy and crazy your life has gotten in the past 365 days. Every September 8th I kind of think wow that was a quick year it's already my birthday again, what did I even do or accomplish this year?

But when your 3.5 that is not what a birthday is about and my inquiring, enthusiastic preschooler wanted to know what kind of birthday I was having and what kind of cake I wanted and how many dinosaur toys I'd be receiving. He was mortified I would not be picking a theme related to prehistoric beasts, pirates, or superheros. When you are three if you don't have a theme, well it's not really even your birthday. Mason was extremely concerned the night before my birthday while I was tucking him in, reminding him that, "When we wake up it's mommy's birthday!" His face immediately showed distress. And then came the wrath of 21 questions. Who would get me a cake? He was much too little to get to the store. I'd better remind daddy that my birthday was tomorrow or I'd wake up with no balloons, no toys and worst of all "no pwincess cake". I assured him that someone would remember to get me a cake. And if I needed to remind daddy it was my birthday we'd be packing up all our toys (okay, I didn't really tell him that).


I did not have to remind Michael and instead woke up to roses, lots of candy, cupcakes and even some sparkling cider (in yo face Margaritaville). Michael served and cleaned breakfast to the munchkins and it was a happy birthday indeed! And hey, I ended up with a cake. Have I mentioned that yet? Because it was the bomb and I know I've mentioned it. But alas, when you grow up, you can bear the thought of letting someone else blow out your candles. So long as they're cute.

birthday country.

we have a lot of birthdays coming up. well just two, but that's half of us. daddy m's is just three days away. luckily he won't need much in regards to a party. he politely declined a moon bounce and cotton candy maker. no fun daddy m.

mason however is turning three. that's right...3. my little boy is all grown up. well maybe not all grown up, but he's so not a baby anymore. we had a little chat a few weeks ago about him growing up. he insisted when he was a big kid he'd have a mustache and big hands. HA! seriously. i have high hopes for three, i mean two was fabulous (95% of the time) i can't begin to fathom what three will bring!

we've decided to celebrate with a dinosaur themed party. in nana's backyard (per usual) with a ridiculous dino cake and a huge dinosaur bounce house. what else does a 3 year old need? well besides their mustache of course ;)

oh and here's birthday 1 & 2 for the mase man. because i love picture posts, duh.