My last baby.

Little Dude turns 2 this week.

I am greatly saddened by this news.

For Little Dude is my last baby.

And he is not really a baby anymore.

How is it possible that I don't have a baby?

It seems there has always been one or two of those creatures in my life for the past 7 years.

And now that stage is over.

I'll tell you one thing that ain't two things . . . I will not miss breastfeeding babies.

No, sirs, I will not.

How anyone could enjoy that dreadful activity is beyond me.

When Little Dude was a baby, he would not smile. 

Nor would he laugh.

Seriously.

For like the first year of his life.

So, naturally, I was worried that something was wrong with him.

Around this time last year, I wrote this post about how happy I was to finally see him smile.  Since this post has been marked private (long-story-involving-creepy persons), most of you have not seen it and I wanted to share it with you today:

***

Why I Let Him Throw Food Off The Highchair

For those of you who have had more than one child, you can relate to how relaxed you become with each subsequent child. While your firstborn would surely get sick if she sucked on an unsanitized pacifier, the last child is fine to suck on a pacifier straight off the floor. By the time the fourth child comes along, a mother might be too busy dealing with other issues than to worry about the baby doing naughty things, like throwing food off the high chair.

(Handsome Dude)

Meet the source of 99% of my "other issues"

But, no, that is not why I let Little Dude throw food off the highchair.

 I have a much better excuse for why I am slacking off in the discipline area with number four.

 

 

 (Daisy Mae, Sweet Pea, and Little Dude)

Here is that precious little number 4 on the day he was born:

 (Sweet Pea, Little Dude, and Daisy Mae)

Those girls.

I can just hear them now:

Sweet Pea:  Ok, Daisy Mae.  I can be the mommy and you can be the daddy.

Daisy Mae:  No fair!  You are always the mommy!

Sweet Pea:  That's cause I am the oldest.  I'll let you hold him sometimes.

Daisy Mae:  Ok!  And we can feed him and dress him and change his diapers . . .

Poor Little Dude.

Never had a chance.

 (Little Dude)

As the days came and went, I was so thankful he was such an easy, mellow baby.

Hardly a peep.

Content.

(Daisy Mae, Little Dude, and me.  I offer no excuses for my hair.  Just know it was a crazy-busy time in my life.  Thank you)

 He was probably terrified.

Maybe he heard about the giant stash of baby doll dress-up clothes the girls have hidden away in their room.

(Handsome Dude)

Plus, he's got this character for a big brother.

 Can you blame him for being quiet and keeping to himself?

I figured it was his mode for survival:
"Lay low. They won't notice me."

 (Little Dude and his cousin, Little Miss)

(Little Dude)

And while I truly appreciated the calmness this child had, I was beginning to worry.

Will this child ever smile? Babies born weeks, months even, after him, were already giggling and babbling.

Will this be the most emotion he will ever show?

I was quite thrilled the night he made this face.

I was relieved to discover he could show at least one emotion.

Maybe he was just a thinker?

A brilliant and quiet mind, if you will?

(Handsome Dude)

Compared to this guy, quiet was a breath of fresh air.

I longed to see him smile.

Then one day, I heard a strange, new sound coming from the highchair.

(Little Dude)

Laughter.

He was tossing food off the side of the highchair to our dog,  Mabel.

 Apparently, this was the key to unlock that precious laughter hidden deep inside.

Melts my heart.

Dang.  He is certainly going to be confused when he gets in trouble for this next week.

Yes, I am a brilliant parent.

Feel free to steal my methods.

But look at that face!

My baby!

He's smiling!

And she doesn't mind either!

***

I am happy to say that Little Dude is now quite the smiley boy.

And can we not all agree that he is uber precious?

 

 

 

Little Dude's Life Verse:

“But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.”

Isaiah 40:31

Happy Birthday to my last baby . . .  who is no longer a baby.