When I turned eleven (and was probably too old to still play "Momma") I asked for a "real baby" doll for my birthday. The doll store had beautiful, live-like girl dolls- with real hair and cute clothes. But I wasn't interested in those. I picked out a baby boy, named him Johnny, and snuck him in the car whenever my mom wasn't looking.
I think I knew then I was destined to have boys. And three years ago, God gave me my first-born son.
We didn't know if Woody (aka Jammer) was a boy or a girl until Brooks announced it after my c-section. My mother later reminded me, "You finally have your 'real baby' boy."
The past three years have been such a joy with Woody. He has been my baby. But as the JonJons are getting smaller, I am having to accept that he is turning into a real big boy. He definitely has developed opinions on what he wears, eats, watches, and plays. His baby jabbering has turned into words, even sentences. He puts his shoes on and pulls them off on his own. He can climb any playground without fear. He has mastered the fork, spoon, and open cups. He has moved out of his crib and into a bed. And (I know that) soon he will be out of diapers.
It sometimes hurts to know that he is growing daily, from a baby to a boy. However, I am learning to embrace these amazing things he is learning to do (on his time.) When he says his sweet bedtime prayers with a kiss and a "I wub you, Momma," I know how blessed I am that I am that God gave me Woody. I pray that he continues to grow and look forward to watching him mature physically, mentally, and spiritually (as well as with the potty.)
Happy Birthday, Woody. Dabby and I love you more than you will ever know!