Ducky is three today.
Before he arrived, I thought our family was complete.
How wrong I was.
Three years later, I can’t remember life before him, and can’t belive I thought our family was complete.
He is the angelic hellion that we sorely lacked (the previous two having been so even-tempered, quiet, and mild during the toddler and preschool years). He tries our patience, but brings so much laughter and joy to our lives. He has a remarkably quick wit and dry humor for a boy so young. (Who would have thought a 2 year old could go toe-to-toe with his big brother’s witty sarcasm?)
When he was born, the older two kids were 11 and 7. It was like starting over. My friend Julie told me, “It will keep you young.”
Three years later, I’m not so sure. Factor in all the melt downs (both his and mine), the food, DVDs, CDs (and fingers) stuffed into the VCR, his wrestling matches with a grudgingly tolerant 100-lb lab (and the not-so-tolerant 5 pound Shih Tzu), the hours-long games of indoor baseball, the bumps and bruises, the trips to the ER for objects he willingly and knowingly stuffed up his nose, the sleepless nights filled with fever and/or vomit, his surprise attacks on all of us with plastic swords and light sabers….
I’m not sure if Julie was right. I don’t know if he keeps me young or ages me. But three years later, I do know that he is the Missing Piece our family lacked (although we didn’t know it at the time), and I wouldn’t change a thing.
