THREE!

My Dearest Joe Joe:

I just peeked in on you and Daddy. You are both soundly asleep, left hand above your head, cocked in that funny sleep position you two always find yourselves in—you in your big boy bed, Daddy in the trundle. You both make me beam, both make my heart burst.

Could you two be any more alike?  

In a little less than 24 hours it will be your official birthday. Your THIRD birthday! And in the last week, I have wanted to say so many things to you—

I will never tire of going out of our way home from daycare at least once a week to pass Bloomington Hospital and say to you: “Joseph, that’s where we met you for the first time!” And then I ask you, “What did we say to you the moment we met you, Joseph?” And you respond, “HappyBirthday, Joseph Anthony!” And you never seem to tire of it, either. I know one day you will, and my heart aches for that time even though it hasn’t come—but for now, you love it as much as I do. You claim to remember that moment. Some days I am inclined to believe you, as you remember every little detail. You are my scientist, after all. Daddy says you see the world differently, the way he did as a child. I don’t care how you see the world, my sweet son, I simply care that you DO see it and that you feel it with all your heart.  

You finally came to us on 9/20/2009. You think that look of joy on my face is something else, huh, kid? I only wish you could have felt how I felt in that moment. I hope you know that feeling one day, Joe. There ain't nothin' like it.

I will always look forward to two moments in my day, even if I have the world’s poopiest, ickiest, crapshoot-of-a-day: you coming into our room when you first wake up in the morning, hair all in a swirly-do and either George, Nemo, or a hammer in your hand (you are always prepared for adventure!) and you running to greet me when I pick you up at daycare (expect for those days you are too engulfed in treasure hunting with your buddies). Those two moments perfectly bookend my work day and give me reason to always, always smile. Thank you, my sweet soul of a boy.

Crazy Joe Joe morning hair. And face. 

I will forever live for those unsolicited “I love you, Mommas” and the ‘just because’ hugs and kisses that you sneak me every now and then without me asking. After all, you are your Daddy’s son, and your shows of true affection are few and far between which makes them all the more special, even though I know you love me more than your words and your deep-thinking mind can possibly articulate. As with your Daddy, I can tell your love for me by the way you look at me (I catch you watching me sweetly), the questions you ask me (‘Do you like the color red, too, Momma? We both love that color, huh, Momma? It’s our favorite color together, Momma, we both love red!’), and the fact that there is no other place you’d rather be on a Saturday than at the market, followed by a walk, and a picnic dinner, with me (and of course your Daddy and Miss P). It is a good thing I adore your father, Joseph, because you are just like him. I have two JAGs, there is no doubt about it, and I’d have it no other way.

I will always cherish your warm little body on my lap as we read a book together. Ferdinand (known to you as ‘Ferdimand’), Caps for Sale, Polar Express, The Little Read Caboose, The Happy Man and His Dump Truck, Pink Me Up, The Giving Tree. Some of my favorites are now your favorites. I have loved sharing with you one of my favorite pastimes—reading—from the very day we brought you home. I’ll never forget it—the night you came home with us from the hospital, after we settled in with you and realized we were ‘for real’ parents (an ‘oh, crap’ moment!) and going this alone (no, the nurses didn’t come home with you!), I took comfort in taking you out of your car seat and laying you next to me on the floor, reading you your first Little Critter book. Daddy made fun of me for doing it, saying you didn’t understand. Joke’s on him now! You followed along in no time—you always paid attention—and now you are our little reader. Just today you recited Caps for Sale to us on the way into school. “You monkeys, you…you give me back my caps!,” your inflection and intonation spot on. *Smile.* Sometimes you ask me to read you a book, and I tell you I can’t at the moment because I’m doing X, Y or Z. In those moments, I’m sorry, kiddo, and I always regret them—please keep asking. And remind me that sometimes (in fact, all times) laundry, dishes, and picking up after you and P are just not important.

Your favorite pastime, much like mine

I will pray and hope for you a long life of joy and wonder, of self-love, self-knowledge, self-confidence. I only ever want to see you happy and fulfilled, my sunshine sugar bear Joe Joe. I will need to remind myself of this, I know.

I have also had some random thoughts running through my head this past week—

Will you ever be potty trained, my dear one? Will we forever be coaxing you to the terlit with M&Ms, Oreos, and stickers? I’m starting to think Pili might catch you, even surpass you, on this milestone. I get it. You just can’t take the precious time to do your business! It’s kind of like when I have to remind your Daddy to eat, otherwise he’ll forget. You Goetz boys just always get wrapped up in your projects, God love you.

Somewhat related, will you always laugh when you toot, and then say ‘It’s from those beans I ate!’ even when you haven’t had beans to eat in days? And will I ever stop joining you in that laughter? Sometimes I forget that I’m the adult.

Will we ever go a week without watching Rudolph or Charlie Brown Christmas or clips of Polar Express or A Very Monkey Christmas in the house? Don’t tell Daddy, but I secretly hope not. I’ve finally found my Christmas soul mate—I just had to give birth to him! I can’t wait to take you to French Lick in December with Daddy, P, and Nonna and Papoo to ride the Polar Express. And I can’t wait to spend our first Christmas in Bloomington together this year. I also love that you and I sing ‘Jingle Bells’ and ‘Harkthe Herald Angels Sing’ no less than once every few days. Yesssssss.

Our first baby is now such a big boy (but no worries, kiddo, you will always be our ‘baby’). Maybe it’s time for another? We asked you recently if you’d want to have another brother or sister. You said you wanted another sister, much to our surprise. Will she be Lourdes? Giselle? Jude? Inmaculada? Or will she be a he? Another JAG? Or will there even be another? Or will there be more than another? Sweet baby Joe, these choices are not ours to make, but we will be listening closely to God (remember He whispers and the world is a loud place) to see if that’s in the cards for our family. If it is or it isn’t, I hope you and Pili will always be thick as thieves and take good care of each other. Even if that means we’ll have to fish you both out of a heap of trouble, just like your favorite race car, Lightening McQueen.

One big heap of Double Trouble 

How will I ever get you to eat your veggies?

Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea to tell you if you keep touching your peep in the bathtub it will fall off. I’m not sure why it occurred to me to say that to you tonight—but it set you off on a fit of giggles, which of course set me off on a fit of giggles. And only made you touch it more. Doh.

Did I ever tell you that you have the most beautiful eyes? ONLY EVERY SINGLE DAY! They light up a room and are most certainly the window into your very old soul. Keep smiling with those eyes, handsome.

Will you ever stop drooling and/or putting your hands in your mouth? The best part is you’ve taught your sister this skill well.

Will you ever stop sneaking icing when we make cupcakes? Are you going to turn into a big ole block of cheese one day (because you eat enough of it! And all kinds—Brie, Manchego, Gouda.)? Will you ever like ice cream? I mean, what kind of kiddo doesn’t like ice cream? MY kiddo, that’s who! You are the only kiddo I know who orders a side of Oreo crumbles at Hartzells…and I love that about you.

And the list goes on and on…

Joe, I’ve wanted to tell you these many things and ask you these many questions in the last week. But I have to pick my moments to tell and ask, because I know you are a thinker, a listener, an internal processor. You are always listening, so I choose carefully the things I say to you. When I do tell you things, I keep them simple. I tell you when you are eating breakfast at the island that “I love you thiiiiiis muuuuuuuch,” the same way my Daddy (your Pappy) always told/still tells me—and I do our special motions to go along with it. I tell you when I drop you off at school in the morning, “Be kind and gentle to your friends.” I tell you when we are playing in the evening that I’m proud to be your Mommy. The last thing I tell you at night before you close your eyes and I’m putting you to bed is that you are my bestest boy and biggest helper, and the boy I always wanted. You sometimes respond with words, or with whispers (you are finding your voice, and what a joy that is to see unfold), but always with understanding in your eyes.

Those eyes. That drool! What a keeper. 

I adore you, my Joseph Anthony. You are one of a kind, kid. Happy Third Birthday. You have helped me find my camino; I can only hope to help you find yours. 

Love,

Your Proud Momma