Charlie's Third Birthday

Charlie Boy,
  Yesterday was your third birthday. You came into my room bright and early in the morning and said, "I am three mom?" and I was a little bit shocked to realize that indeed you were three. I looked at the clock all morning and thought about what had been happening at that very time three years ago. At 7:30am I was still writhing in pain and exhausted (from throwing up all over your dad. More than once.) At 8:30am, I was snoozing thanks to the blessed epidural. At 9:30am, I was calling Daddy to tell him that the nap I'd sent him home for wasn't going to happen. At 9:45am the anesthesiologist was increasing my epidural and taking away the makeup I was trying to apply-flat on my back. By 10:00am I was receiving a blessing from Dad, who made it just in time. And twenty minutes later, my enormous belly wasn't just a blob anymore-it was a person! It was my boy! It was you!
   I couldn't stop shaking. I had been scared to deliver and scared to have a c-section. I had worried as I watched the contractions wreak havoc on your tiny heartbeat. I had worried that something was wrong with the medical staff-after all, how could they be discussing weekend plans at the same time you were being born? Then I heard you cry and it was beautiful. Every parent says that, but it isn't cliche. It's the sound you've been longing to hear for the better part of a year. Imagining that moment is what helps you survive the chaos of your body and life and emotional instability. The doctor held you up, red and squealing, with rolls from your neck to your toes. All four grandparents were at the window smiling at you and the cameras were going crazy.
   Charlie you are special. You were the first. The firstborn of our family, the first grandbaby and nephew. You changed our lives completely. When you were born everything shifted and became about you; weekdays and weekends, holidays, family dinners and vacations. It wasn't just about your needs, but what would make you happy. The shift didn't happen just for us, but for all of our family. Grammy used to send us packages in the mail, but she started filling them and addressing them to you before you were even born.
  I feel like we are at our first real crossroads as your parents. You are learning and growing and changing at warp speed. You are still a baby, but now you're a boy too. Most of the time, you are so innocent, but sometimes you are naughty. Today Dad asked you not to go near the garage (safety issue). You waited until he was back inside the house, checked to make sure the coast was clear then raced that bike of yours straight for the garage and touched and touched and touched that garage door. You didn't even know why, just that you weren't supposed to.
  Being a parent is a funny thing. Before my own bundle of joy arrived, I was a parenting expert-knowingly critiquing everyone around me. I was so confident in my theories. I knew how to discipline and mold your little life so that you would reach your greatest potential. I planned on finding the perfect balance between being your friend, advocate and teacher. When you showed up, with your own personality and needs/demands even, all that inspiration and confidence went right out the window. As you get older, little son, we are responsible for more than just cheering you on at each new milestone. We are supposed to teach and shape you. We want to help you do and be great.
   There's this unspoken pressure to raise the child who is polite and clever and the desired playmate of all the other children. But, I don't think I would forgive myself for turning you into that if it meant taking away my Charlie. At every turn there are more than enough people trying to correct you and tell you "no". There are disapproving looks from moms in public who know better, and a seemingly endless list of parental failings. Despite all my study, I am constantly bewildered at how to raise you. How do I show you all the wonderful things you can do, without bombarding you with rules and expectations?
  And besides, nobody else understands the way you reach for my hair when you are sleepy or need to be comforted. They don't see you come out of the bathroom spinning your underwear above your head EVERY time you go. They don't wake up to your smiling face two inches away from their own or hear the way you say "thank you mom!" with more gusto and passion than a three year old should be able to muster.
 Of course, you can't throw sand at the park maintenance man (yeah, that happened) or frantically grab multiple four dollar chocolate milks at Corner Bakery Cafe, but I"m trying to find a way to teach you that gently. I know you are full of energy. I know you can be more than just mildly destructive. You spill things and break things and ignore me when I am trying to keep you safe.
   You are always surprising us and shattering all of our expectations. You are so smart and so funny. You think you are funny too. Your sister is among your best audience members. She mimics all the noises you make and giggles like crazy-especially when you are mad. The other day you were laying on your back with Stella pinned on top of you yelling, "Mom! Wook at me! I am holding my brudder!" You always call her, "Siwee Sella" and you frantically hide all toys from her. I'm sorry to admit, I often spot you pushing her over or dragging her around by her ankles. She undermines the lessons in gentleness I'm trying to teach you by laughing hysterically when you body-slam her. I catch you being sweet too. I'm hoping it all evens out.
 You are such a friendly little man.  We load you and Stella up in the stroller every night and go for a walk. Whenever you spot somebody, you yell, "Hi!" or "Hello!" or even, "How are you doing?" You are very offended if they don't respond. You consider every person to be your friend or cousin...and dogs are not excluded. You have a wonderful time in nursery and at preschool. You love to play with our neighbor "Pizza" (Lupita). It never gets old to see you standing on the porch waving and yelling, "hey, Pizza!"
  You think the world revolves around you and that everyone in it exists to watch you Bieber dance. When we were at Hayley's apartment, you started calling her roommates "my people" and informing them about everything that was going on. Your aunts and uncles think the world of you. They can't tell you no and you can't get enough of them. You follow around Sam and his friends-trying to do everything they do. You love to play with Abby and swipe her candy. You haul Hayley outside every chance you get. You scream with excitement when you see Jessica's car and today you invited Nick to wipe your bum. This came on the heels of an exciting offer to watch you go poop on the potty. He prefers to chase you or play "Simba" instead. You can't wait for Jess and Anthony to come back and play with your toys.
  It's so wonderful to watch your little imagination developing. You are always hosting camping trips or fishing with random poles or sticks that you find. You pretend to be a doctor and check us out, and you pretend to be severely injured too. I adore listening to you think aloud, saying things like, "I will tell my dad, I should go outside. That is a good choice" or "My mom is lost, I don't know where she is." Sometimes it's the scenario of an imaginary game you are playing. These typically involve trucks, superheros and lots of endergy (energy).
  We love watching you grow. We love the person you are becoming. We love how you love waking up every day and never missing an opportunity to learn and grow. We love how you make everyone laugh and in spite of (or because of?) your naughtiness, endear people to you. We love the childproof locks on our doors that keep you inside. We love cooking with you and letting you add the "gredients". We love how snuggly you've become and how quickly a bandage (you refuse to say bandaid) makes things better. We love how you aren't afraid of bugs or parking lots or water or animals or strangers or getting lost or falling down. But heaven knows you make us tired. So tired.
  I'm praying my heart out that we can get this balance just right. That we can love you and encourage you, and help you become a really nice person. I wish this parenting thing wasn't such an experiment, but you have proven to be an incredibly patient and forgiving subject. Thank you for that, Charlie, and thank you for making every moment interesting.
                                                             Love,
                                                                Your mom
                                                                   And also your dad


p.s. today you said to Sam, "Sam, that is my dad. He is really strong". Man, you love that guy.