BuggaBoo, you are getting to be such a big boy!
You turned three this last December, and you have my deepest apologies for that cake. My excuse is life was super crazy and you at least got to pick the boxed mix and the can of frosting. Why was I not surprised when you picked sprinkles?
It seems not that long ago I was in the tub, excited to meet my first little one. We didn't even know you were a boy!
Yours was a leisurely pregnancy, going three weeks late, which ended in a leisurely labor, three days warming up and then a 12 hours "sprint" to the end. You were born four minutes before midnight, the day before my Grandpa's birthday.
You were 8 pounds, 9 ounces, 21.5 inches long. Your head was 14.25 inches, and perfectly round (ouch!) You gave my Mom a scare by not breathing for the first two minutes, but you perked right up. You nursed like a champ after we settled into bed, although looking at the pictures I can tell I had a lot to learn about breastfeeding.
Your birth was perfect and amazing and taught me not to be afraid. Your birth made me a mommy. I really can't believe you're three already. Thank you for being my baby. Thank you for being my son.
I look forward to many more years and many more moments with you. I love you.
Dressed for: The Way I Want to Look
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