Tag Archives: Harry

Things I Don’t Want to Forget: 3.5 Years of H

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+ When I heard a thump in your room last night and went up to check on you and you were standing at the window. You turned to me and quickly crouched down because you thought you would be in trouble then threw caution to the wind and said “Do you want to see the moon???”

+ “Do you want to talk about tractors?”

+ ALL THE TRACTOR TALK. I hope you have a really well paying job when you grow up because you have grand plans to buy 40 plus 40 tractors.

+ How sweet you are when you tell me I can sleep in your room, heck, in your bed, every single night.

+ You hiding inside the tractor tires.

+ How loud you are. I don’t get it, but you talk so loud.

+ Pizza is always the answer to “What do you want for dinner?”

+ This two and a half months abroad and how well you’re adjusting / how hard it’s been on you. You’ve been a champ, but it’s really tough. You went through a few weeks where you cried daily about missing Germany.

+ Walking into your room at naptime to find you tucked into the bed and snuggled up with that giant monkey.

+ How sweet you can be when you’re talking to an adult.

+ The sweet little talks you give your brother when he’s crying in the car. “It’s okay buddy, we’re almost home! So close now.”

+ How you will eat anything if we tell you there is sugar in it.

+ How amped up you get when you eat sugar.

+ Your rendition of “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.”

+ How much you love Hook by Blues Traveler.

+ Your view on the upcoming election. “I don’t want any. I’m going to close my eyes and not listen.”

+ You still would drop everything to snuggle me. I have to remember that. You are quite a handful lately. Three and a half is a trying age and you’re doing everything to test your spot in this family. But I need to just stop and snuggle you daily. Because you love it, I love it, and it’s so good.

xoxo Mama

Things I Don’t Want to Forget: 3 and a Quarter Years

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+ When you squeeze my foot so hard because you’ve just got to release that tension somehow.

+ You, sneaking into Oscar’s room as I’m putting him to sleep, to whisper-shout “I love you!”

+ Your imagination and talking to Tina the T-Rex.

+ Your love of dinosaurs and desire to listen to any dinosaur podcast I can find. You call them “your podcasts.”

+ The way you climb up my body when I’m The Giving Tree and Papa is the Tickle Tiger coming to get you.

+ “Pizza!” as the answer to “What do you want for breakfast/lunch/dinner?” Everytime.

+ All the dressing up. You ask me to dress you up like Kylo Ren or Darth Vader or a puppy or a bear, etc. etc. etc.

+ Your invitation to watch Dinosaur Train with you on the couch.

+ The way you snuggle right into me after school.

+ How big and yet how little you look when I come to get you from school and you’ve got binoculars around your neck and you’re out exploring with your friends.

+ “Hoopa Hoops.”

+ How big you look on your bike.

+ Swimming in the bathtub with your goggles on.

+ When you bring me a lightsaber for a battle.

+ The things you say, the noises you make, the songs you sing, when you’re in your room for a rest.

+ When I ask you where you want to live when you grow up, your answer is always “With you.”

+ A love of anything that has sugar in it.

+ How teeny tiny you really are still. I keep thinking you’re getting so big, and you are, but one day I’ll look back on these pictures and my heart will break at how tiny you really were. It’s already starting to happen.

xoxo Mama

Things I Don’t Want to Forget: 3.1 Years

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+ The way you talk, and talk, and talk, and sing, and shout, and kick, and jump, and play all the way through your “rest.”

+ How sensitive you still are. Example: you cried, multiple times, while watching Inside Out the first time. I love that.

+ When you looked at me eaaaarly one morning while we were watching Alvin and the Chipmunks on the couch in an attempt to let the other men of the house sleep and said “I love this date night.”

+ How much you love “date nights.”

+ The meatballs. You can easily, easily put away 20 meatballs in one sitting.

+ Your smooches.

+ Your puppy dog voice.

+ The way every piece of furniture can become a train or a Millennium Falcon.

+ “I don’t want to tell you.” when you know your going to incriminate yourself.

+ “Mama, I don’t want you to look at this.” when you know you’re about to do something bad.

+ The other day when I finished getting Oscar to sleep and I came out to find you in a coat you had never shown interest in, looking like you had done something wrong, asking me to call you Han Solo and put a Panda in your pocket.

+ Your innocent, curious questions about death.

+ Finding your toys everywhere. It drives me insane, but it’s the kind of thing I waited my whole life for.

+ When you walk into a room wearing my shoes. Always my shoes. Never Papas.

+ “Luke the puppy dog” in your homemade ears and tail, painted on nose, and paws made out of Papa’s socks.

+ This growth spurt which has caused you to nap again (!) and become a bottomless pit.

Love you buddy, Mama

Happy Birthday Harry (Three Years!)

Harry, 3 years oldHarry, 3 years oldHarry_3_years-17Harry_3_years-29Harry, 3 years oldHarry, 3 years oldReally, where did the time go? Who decided it was nice to speed time up the second you have a baby? How is my baby three years old?!

I remember January 9, 2013 like it was yesterday. I remember the excitement, the trepidation, the pain, and then the extreme elation. The joy that I’d never known before. The immense love. The love that stopped me in my tracks. The day I became a mom.

My buddy is three years old now. He’ll tell you. He’s “free.” He’ll hold up three fingers, after pushing down two with the other hand, and smirk proudly. He’s a big boy – maybe even bigger than he realizes. He still holds that part of my heart that he stole so many years ago.

His voice is sweet and high pitched. I never want to forget the way it sounds, especially when he says “I love you, Mama!” like he’s asking a very exciting question. His big feet are always out of shoes, out of socks. His hair is still as unruly as ever and I love it. Somehow, he smells fruity all the time.

He loves trains and planes and busses. He adores animals — stuffed, plastic, and breathing. Puddles are magnets to him. And he loves to quote all things Star Wars. In fact, he just loves all things Star Wars. Han Solo is often doing naughty things in our house, yet somehow Harry is the only one to ever see him.

He takes apart my house daily and it breaks my heart in such a great way when I find something he put away for me. Books backwards, shoes piled on other shoes, toys tossed next to baskets. He tells me often he wants to “take apart houses and then put them back together to make them prettier.” He loves Fixer Upper, and Marley & Me, and Elf, and Thomas.

He’s sweet as can be. Sometimes he engulfs me in a bear hug. When his brother is upset, he’ll often go over to give him his monkey, or sing him a song, or just tell him everything is okay. He holds my hand without my coaxing. He is the most sensitive little boy and his empathy levels are off the charts.

He’s curious. Always taking things apart, asking for help to put them back together. He wants to know why, how, when, where. He loves to talk things through. You can almost see the gears in his head moving.

This little love is my heart. He shares it, of course, but woah I love him. He is growing into such an amazing little boy. A boy I am proud of and a boy I hope his brother will learn from. A boy who reminds me a lot of his father, who I loved first. I feel so lucky to be along on this ride and I honestly can’t wait to see what’s in store for three.

I love you Harry, happy birthday!

xoxo Mallory

 

Things I Don’t Want to Forget: Almost Three

Harry, Almost 3Harry, Almost 3Harry, Almost 3+ Your jokes. And they way you giggle and ask “What did I say?” after we laugh when you were inadvertently funny.

+ Your steel trap mind. You don’t forget anything.

+ The way your imagination takes off and all of a sudden you’re Marley with a hat, or your bed is the Millennium Falcon, or you’re making coconut butter with Oscar’s monkey.

+ Your tiny hand in my hand.

+ “That was a fart.”

+ All the apples with little bite marks in them. ALL THE APPLES.

+ Your insistence that Mickey Mouse needs a diaper change from Minnie.

+ When you’re in your bed but not tired. And all the shenanigans that ensue.

+ Your constant petting of Christmas trees.

+ How sensitive you are. You cried when you realized Darth Vader died. Or Marley. Or Yoda. Or our Christmas tree.

+ Your extreme introversion. It takes you a full week to recover from houseguests.

+ How much you love cereal. And meatballs.

+ Your tiny little butt.

+ When you ask for double snuggles at bed time.

+ How much you love to read. And trains. You love all trains.

+ The way you assume everyone has toys at their house “No, I’ll just play with Mr. Chris and Dr. Amanda’s toys.”

+ All. The. Bandaids.

+ And. The. Cotton. Balls.

+ When you get so frustrated and you just don’t know what to do so it comes out in a scream or a yell or you crumple to the ground. It’s so hard to see you so upset my love, but I am so grateful that I get to be here to walk you through this stage of life. You’re learning a lot every day and having a LOT of fun along the way.

Love, Mama

 

Things I Don’t Want to Forget: 2 Years + 10 Months

Things I Don't Want to Forget | R.Simple LifeThings I Don't Want to Forget | R.Simple Life

+ Your voice when you sing. It’s so cute… and so bad.

+ How excited you get when I sneak into your room for extra snuggles, and the way you pet my head while I lay next to you.

+ The constant requests for “fast as a speeder bike!” when we’re running.

+ The Darth Vader theme at all times. Especially when you are trying to make your brother happy.

+ Everything you name right now is named Ted.

+ Your hands covering your ears whenever something is too loud.

+ The way you can put away a large meatball platter at Ikea, no problem.

+ Your jokes. They’re so good.

+ “May I have to…” all the time. So polite, yet still so little.

+ The moment after an epic meltdown when you’re calm and happy, like someone switched a light.

+ You trying to trade Dottie for Oscar’s Monkey pacifier. Good try, little buddy.

+ When you talk to your guys and buddies like we talk to you.

+ The way you put your underwear on. Never the right way, though there seem to be limitless possibilities.

+ Your constant need for the most attention. I wish I could give it to you, but even more so I wish it was easier and less painful for you to learn you can’t always have it.

+ This time of adjustment. It’s tough buddy. You have lots of tantrums, lots of meltdowns, lots of yelling and tears. But I understand. It’s hard on you too. You’re dealing with jealousy and probably a little sadness. You’re unsure of the changing environment. You are unsure of your own feelings, and how to express them. I want to remember this partially because it’s the hardest time in my short parenting life so far, but partially because I want to remember how you work though this and are able to overcome. I know we’ll get there. Let’s keep on trucking together.

I love you. Mama