Monday, April 4, 2016

Nicholas Scott


April fourth, two thousand and seven.  I'd been to the hospital at least a hundred and fifty times, begging them to just GET HIM OUT ALREADY but...no dice.  I made peace with having to wait for my scheduled cesarian on April 5th.

Naturally, I woke up on the fourth in labor.  Hashtag figures.

He was gorgeous and I was enamored.

He loved to sleep from two weeks onward and he was the bee's knees for that alone.






He had hair, he wasn't actually bald. It was just so white it was transluscent.  And there wasn't a lot of it.


He turned one.  Most of us did it at one time or another.


He was the most gorgeous toddler, wasn't he?



He was OBSESSED with his vacuum.  He thought it was his baby and he treated it accordingly, diapering it and feeding it bottles and rocking it. I wish with every fiber of my being I had a photo of him rocking his vacuum cleaner to sleep.




He turned two, which was apparently nerve wracking.  He cut his cheek at a Thomas concert and I should have taken him in for stitches, but I didn't. Hashtag mom fail. Hashtag not the first and certainly not the last.



Those eyes though!


We moved to Connecticut when he was two and a half.



We moved to Guam just before he turned three.  Like literally, less than three weeks before. I can't believe it was that long ago.





Daddy came home right before Christmas.  I'm assuming. I actually have zero recollection of this. 








He became a big brother for the second and final time just before he turned four.  I'd been super nervous bc this was the time he was developing his more assholish traits, but he handled it like a champ and to this day, Scott is Daisy's favorite. 





This one I do remember. Nick was gone for five months and to this day (that's apparently the phrase of this post) those were the hardest days of my life. I seriously feel like such a badass when I think about how I survived.


He was...Joseph? Why can't I remember anything?


We moved to Hawaii a month or two before he turned five.



Christmas 2012, the last time we could swim outside on Christmas day.  Sigh.


He turned six in Ireland.  Hashtag how cool is that.




Christmases are cold now.


Seven.  Whoa.


He stopped letting people take his picture.  Hashtag I sat here for like six minutes trying to remember how to spell picture.  Hashtag am I going senile?



Christmas Eve, 2014.  Benehani.  Hashtag traditions.


Last year he turned eight.  What?!?!



Christmas 2015. He's like a tiny man.


But to me? To me, he's my baby.  He fit in my (gigantic) belly.  He lived under my heart.

1 comment:

  1. Aww, Happy Birthday to Nicholas! Such cute pictures. Love the one of the boys on the beach. And he cuddled a vacuum cleaner? And I had to backspace and retype that five times before the squiggly red line disappeared. Not too uncommon with that word, but I've had to google how to spell beautiful recently. Really? Point is...I have the same thoughts about early senility.

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