Rusty James is One

Wednesday, June 21, 2017

My Rusty James,
In the impossible nature that is time itself, you have grown a whole year's worth of it now.  You've celebrated all the holidays once and all seven seasons (the four natural seasons and then also football, basketball, and baseball seasons which include enduring practices and games along with us like a champ).

You've learned to smile, to feed yourself, to point and demand something, to reach your arms out to be picked up.  You've learned to roll over, then do the giddy up crawl (one leg bent, one foot on the floor), and then walk - now, nearly in a run with arms outstretched.

You've learned how to navigate the dogs' swinging tails that are inconveniently yet perfectly parallel to your eye level. You can sign to us certain words to get your point across (hungry, sleepy, outside, play) or you've found other ways to get your point across (that high pitched screech you give all of us).  You give the sweetest, gentlest little gaping mouth kissas, then pull back and smile - making us all swoon.  You love to clap; a life encourager already, you are.

You're a sneaky little bugger, always getting into things you're not supposed to and wrecking the place as best as you can.  You give Violet a run for her money always trying to steal her snacks and drinks and toys because she's the only sibling who doesn't outright just hand whatever it is you want over to you.  You love chasing Lulu or toddling up to her and trying to pat her while she lays there with a sideways look on her face knowing she can't yet trust this human yet. 

And your Gemini zodiac is well ingrained in your personality already as you flash between polar opposite attitudes.  You are a sweet, smiling, independent playing, curious, little darling.  Or inconsolably mad, flailing your head back (and you've got quite the melon, dude) to demonstrate just how serious you are about your unhappiness.  I think back to those first few months of colic and often wonder if that wasn't just your Gemini sign shining through. (Gratefully, your 'nice twin' is the dominant one).

You give the most precious hugs and snuggles and at random moments in the day.  You'll see me sitting on the floor folding laundry and you weave over the piles, laboriously climb into my lap and bounce your feet as I organize your sister's shirts; as if to say - oh, yes, here's a good spot to sit and rest by momma for a few minutes.

You have a little ET-run that you do when you see your Dad and grandpas; unsteadily walking as fast as you can to get them to be lifted up high and in their big, strong arms.  You know that Booboo will play rough with you and joyfully smack him right off the forehead which delights Grey and sends him into fits of giggles.  Booboo loves calling you, 'Bad baby,' and it somehow comes out as the cutest term of endearment.  Gemma dotes on you like a little momma and you are so clearly confident in her abilities to hold you and care for you that it makes me laugh and also feel grateful that you two have each other.

And you and Violet...oh sheesh - the two of you make a hysterical little pair - both of you standing only so tall and needing me so much still.  You two often times stand in front of me, side by side, gazing up at me with big round eyes both wanting the same exact thing at the same time (a snuggle, a hug, to be held, a bubba, attention).

It's fun to see all the little pieces of all the branches of our family tree finding their little bits in you.  The tufts of curls at the base of your head, just like your great Grandfather Jim Adams.  The way you scrunch your nose up like he used to do too.  Gigi says you remind her of Daddy more than all the other babies have at this age.  And Abba says when you smile you look just like baby me.  Lots of people have noted how they think you look like Chum or Pappy.  You have those big eyes like Gemmi, and that crazy boy destructive mode like Booboo, and a go-with-the-flow attitude like Violet. But you are also distinctively and singularly YOU.  

You love opening and closing doors (cupboards, the wagon door, the door on the little red and yellow car), you like carrying around long, stick-shaped objects (markers, pens, pencils), and you are fascinated with rocks - the bigger the more intriguing.  You prefer Lola to the dogs and love eye contact and 'talking' face to face with people.  You haven't found your love of books yet, but you do like flipping board books pages and flaps (it's kind of like opening doors!)  And riding the tractor or taking a loop around the yard in the Barbie Jeep with your sisters are some of your favorite activities.  

RustMan, you are such a joy.  You are so obviously part of our family; one of us,  that to imagine us here before without you seems like a dream.  It breaks my poor momma's heart to see you growing and learning and becoming a toddler.  Everyday you gobsmack me with some new little thing you learned or figured out.  My babiest baby.  And maybe it's because you are you, or because you're the littlest and I'm fabricating it in my momma's mind - but I swear, even a year later, I can still smell the heaven on you, just like a new babe.  You are adored, RustMan, truly, by each of us.  You bring smiles to this whole house just because you are you.  

I'll love you forever and ever and ever.
Even when you get big
(and even if you grow out of your heaven smell)
your momma.

1 comment:

  1. Tears.

    What a lucky, loved little boy. And "smell of heaven"? Beautiful. Just beautiful.

    Happy Birthday, little man. What a perfect addition you are to your family.