Happy birthday, dear Noah, happy birthday to you!

People told us before Noah was born, when I was roughly the size of a whale, that babies change your lives in ways you can't imagine. "Yeah, no kidding." I thought to myself. "Such deep and profound advice. I'll be able to see my feet again for starters. I remember my feet. I assume they're still there, because it doesn't FEEL like I'm walking around with no feet." Turns out that it kinda was deeper advice than I thought it was. It started with his birth. Most of you know of the years and years of body image issues/eating disorder/depression I have been dealt. I did not purge while I was pregnant, and loved my body. Mostly. I could have passed on the stretch marks, but at least it was for something worthwhile and not because I ate a few too many burritos. At any rate, I have never felt more powerful than when I gave birth. It shot from my head all the way down to my toes, and for once I understood why some ancient cultures thought of a goddess as the powerful giver of life. I WAS powerful. I WAS strong. And we made a beautiful little boy.

Who grew. Whose every coo and smile and word we made a huge deal over. A year ago, he had just learned to walk and had about 20 words in his vocabulary. Now, he tells me that "I runnin'." and has six and seven word SENTENCES. When he was born, there was lots of snuggling, and I loved that, but somehow it's even cooler when he says "Mama? I hug you, I give you kiss." and then he does. What don't I love about this kid? Well, he is two now. And "acts two" now from time to time, but by and large he is a laid back, cool kid. I love him more than I knew it was possible to love someone, and look forward to watching him grow up even more, at the same time wishing that I had my baby back in my arms just for an hour.

I could go for volumes about this child, but I won't subject you to that. Unless you come over and ply me with hot tea for stories, because although I thought that having a 72 degree day was awesome, my allergies have disagreed vehemently and I am quite miserable. I am glad we are not doing the party until the third. Instead, I give you what he has become today: Noah, the dinosaur wrangler.

FYI: These were presents from Grams and Sam for Christmas, and this was Christmas night. And Noah was yelling "I a cowboy! Yeeeeeee ha! Giddyup dinosaur!" It. was. adorable.