As a kid I remember how my Mom adored my little brother. I mean, she loved all of us, but he was totally her fav.o.rite. Me, with my Classic Middle Child Syndrome, absolutely hated this. But there was no changing it. He was always cute. He was always funny. He could pretty much do no wrong. I always thought it was because he was the only boy. I was wrong...it was because he was the baby.
Fast forward a couple of decades. I adore my children. All of them. I adore them probably more than is healthy for one person to love four little things so much. But my Hootie is different. It's not that he's my favorite, because he's not. You are not supposed to have favorites as a mom (ahem....mom!). He's just my precious. He's always cute. He's always funny. And he can pretty much do no wrong. (Okay, he can actually do A LOT of wrong....I just forgive it a lot quicker than some of the other wrongs happening around here.) Part of me knows this has to do with him being our Little Miracle. (Zero percent chance of survival? I think not!) But good golly, the other part is because he's the baby.
And today my baby woke up, smothered my face with his hot little kisses, looked me square in the eye and said, "It's time for my burf-day Momma, and I'm not your baby anyyyymore." Ugly tears from me proceeded to fall, and he skipped off happily into the other room.
Happy 3rd Birthday to my Precious Houston James. You bring so much joy and humor to our family, and we love you to pieces.
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