Ezra.

His mind is constantly cataloging his surroundings. He knows exactly where every toy, book, or stray shoe is... 100% of the time. He catalogs entire movies after one or two viewings- quoting scenes weeks later word for word. His comedic timing is impeccable- like a mini Steve Martin. If something (anything!) is out of place, he will not be able to let it go and move on unless the situation is absolved. If I mention something in passing at 8AM, like "oh you should tell daddy that when he gets home", it will be the FIRST thing out of his mouth the very second Chris' foot hits the entryway tile, all those hours later. Long after I've forgotten it.

He is beyond particular about his food. I recently had to throw away eat his entire peanut butter honey sandwich because, he complained, there were shadows on it. SHADOWS! Even when the 'shadows' were gone, he wouldn't eat it. They had tainted the food in his mind. No matter how incredibly hungry he is, he will not eat something if it is even slightly off. A banana that's too "stringy", macaroni on a plate instead of a bowl, cheese that is too "slippery". If he had his way, he would eat nothing but crackers & lucky charms all day every day.




Negotiating is like breathing to him. If I say one thing, he is quick to come back with a compromise... a plan B. Oftentimes, his plan is fair, so we go with it. Other times, not so much. Like the other day, after he got into the biggest trouble of his whole life, and on the way home in the car I am fuming and he is bawling, and suddenly he stops crying and asks, "Mommy? Do you wanna get some ice cream?"

He is exasperating and invigorating at the same time. Draining and filling. He wears me down with his talk, yet at the same time I want to capture every conversation and never let them go because they are so clever and funny and life giving.

He drags me to the end of myself and then, once I'm there, makes me giggle and laugh like I haven't been able to in years.

He loves attention. He is always the most outgoing one on the playground. ("Do you wanna be my fwend? Do you wanna be my fwend?") He is very sensitive, but learning to shake things off. He has trouble falling asleep at night. He is the sweetest big brother I have ever seen.



He is my first born son- a place of honor in a familial structures throughout the world. And honor him is what I try to do day in and day out. I try to honor him by allowing him to make his own decisions throughout the day. I try to honor him by disciplining him consistently while remaining a soft place for him to run to. I try to honor him by making eye contact with him when he is talking and really listening and responding to what he says.

He is such a special little guy, and I often remind myself that the things that drive me crazy about him now are bound to turn into his greatest strengths later. If I can only find the grace to nurture those things and not squash them, we both will be better for the wear, I think.

What a beautiful thing! He builds up my character while I help to mold his. He pulls water from my ocean, only to rain it down on my parched head when I'm most in need of a drink.

I'm so so grateful to have him in my life.