It's his party and I'll cry if I want to!

Even though New Years isn’t quite here yet, I’d say it is safe to say we survived the Holidays. Our budget for Christmas gifts, dinners and parties worked out beautifully! We made sure with each month’s breakdown, we always had an idea of how much more money we’d need at that point to put aside and truthfully it all could not have gone better!(Unless, of course, Santa had brought us the winning lotto ticket or blue prints for where to strike oil or gold in our own backyard) But really, I was the one whose survival could have been leaning toward a Mama-sized meltdown. It was never a question for my Husband. He is pretty laid back most of the time and by now has a general idea of when to take a front seat to my insanity and just enjoy or jump into the craziness and lend an oven-mitted hand. Even our little man was more than a trooper. Faced with the non-stop over stimulation of Christmas Eve, his own 2^nd Birthday Party, Christmas Day and all of my 'must have' memories cram packed in between, he still was a picture perfect little boy!

But me, I am the one who builds up this idea in my mind of all the wonderful plans of what I’d like to do for the Holidays. And now with our son’s Birthday celebrations added, my list of ‘must-haves’ has probably at least doubled in size. We have to bake this (and this and this and this and this), hang the decorations, take a Christmas card photo, visit with Santa, attend one Christmas/Holiday light/music show, drive around and see the lights, find some snow, watch Christmas movies… etc..etc..etc. And then with the hosting of our little man’s 2^nd Birthday, I had even more grand plans of how I wanted things to go down. So needless to say, I can easily become one stressed out Mama. (by my own doing of course!) I made a point though, to keep myself in check as much as possible, after all, things don’t have to go perfectly to make a great memory and Lord knows with a toddler on your heels, plans can change in an instant…or just take hours longer to get started than you had anticipated (or come to an end even quicker!).

Harder than keeping a harness on my overly zealous memorandum, was watching my precious little boy officially leaving behind babyhood and making a full on leap into toddler hood. I find it almost impossible to wrap my mind around the fact that this little being was once nestled inside of my belly, all safe and warm. Whose personality and gorgeously handsome looks was only something I could dream of. And who then started off life so tiny (and quite wrinkly!) and has now grown into his own little person with ideas and imagination and opinions. Who is now not just off and running, but jumping and skipping and somersaulting all over the place(even in the middle of the Target)! Whose ‘repeat everything I hear’ button is firmly turned ON 99% of the time and whose keen observation for only having to see something once before he can do it himself, has now taken hold. Whose little heart has started to develop empathy for other’s bumps and bruises that might require hugs and kisses for healing (or a barrage of concerned questioning concerning a possible poopage in the pants and a diaper change needed if someone should happen to accidentally pass gas). We leave behind the stages of finger pointing and grunting and instead praise the fact that he now calls people and things by their name. Hello to the wonderful world of toddler reasoning (such as believing honey is an acceptable request for breakfast, lunch and dinner; you must always have a cup of milk and water with every meal and rubber rain boots are the must have choice of footwear whether out of the house or in).

Amazing hardly begins to describe witnessing the transformation of life in your very own child that you have helped to create and are now helping to shape and mold. I am proud to admit I was able to hold it together during the party. Before and after however, might have been a different storyJ I did shed a few tears over the fact that this little creature is growing and changing before my very eyes and that he will never again be as little today as he was yesterday. Despite the fact that a 2ft 11inch, honey fingered, milk mustached, rubber booted toddler can melt my heart in one look, I really AM one tough M.O.B. (mother of boy!)….as long as you can look past my blubbering face.