Oh dear Scott, aka "Groceries" aka "Laundry" aka "Superman",
Happy Birthday son! We loved seeing your spirit develop this year. You are bold! You are smart! You are the life of the party. Sometimes you're just overwhelmed with love for your own baby brother. Most mornings when you get in the car seat, you first have to sing the Brothers Song to Mark. You made this song up. You sit on top of him in his seat, gently smack his cheeks with your open palms, and whisper "You and me, you and me, you and me" through gritted teeth. (He loves this, by the way, as he loves most things about you.) Do you know Mark's second word was "Scott"? Before he said my name or Daddy's, he said yours!
Right now, dear Scott, you love wearing costumes (see Dad's blog). You love singing Molly Malone, but you change the words to make her a fish who sells tacos. You love your grandparents, your aunts and uncles, and everyone who does or has lived in Apartment #8. You are starting to say prayers, and you pray for your friends. Because you are little, your emotions can really overtake you. I'm learning that when this happens you want your green alligator blanket or your grey blanket, you want to be held, and if it's really really bad you want to sit on my bed and be read to. Tantrums are tough on you and on me, dear, but the way you want to be soothed is pretty nice.
I love hearing you make up stories. You are always figuring out how things work. And I love seeing your bravery! You climb trees, you climb rocks. And I adore when a freshly slept Scott comes to cuddle with me in the morning or after your rare naps.
Can't wait to see what another year with you brings pumpkin!
Love,
Mommy
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