It has been called to my attention that Grant's reputation has been somewhat tarnished by recent blog entries. None in particular, but more collectively over the past, oh, year or so. Now, it's not to say that such writings aren't warranted (because they certainly are), but perhaps his more sensitive and positive sides have been inadvertently glossed over because the (sometimes) funny and naughty sides are so much more ... oh, I don't know ... apparent?That being said, I wanted to tell you how much I love my Grant. I was so excited for Grant to be born. Clint and I had wanted a new baby in our home for a long time before Grant came. Plus, we'd never had a baby boy before ...
(hospital photo)Grant was born three weeks early (hooray!), and was such a skinny newborn in January. Nicole and I liked to turn the heat up high and look at Grant's cute little body. In the picture below, he was only a few days old and was lying on a cloth diaper and wearing a preemie size disposable diaper.
Skinny babies make me nervous, so I was really excited when Grant turned all chunky only a few weeks later.When Grant was 6 months old, and I hadn't yet started Family Life Unraveled, I hand-wrote my first notes about Grant in my personal journal (which, by the way, doesn't get a lot of use these days): "I'd like to write a few words about Grant. If I could only use one word to describe him, it'd be 'happy.' He is so complacent and he'll smile at anyone, any time of day (even if we wake him up). He's such a porky (18 lbs. at 5 months, and he was a preemie). We've nicknamed him 'Chubbs.' Nicole likes to hug him and say, 'Hi, Chubbo!'" Reading this now actually makes me think of Scotty. But anyway, I'll always remember Grant as the happiest baby I ever did see.
Grant's still an overall happy boy (even though I'm constantly recording his ornery moments). He LOVES to play games. Any game. With anyone. In fact, life is a giant game to Grant. Play with him, and he'll never give you trouble again. Hold him tight, too; he loves that. He also likes to dance. Our latest game is to push Grant's belly button and ask him if it works. If it's in good repair, he'll do a jig, if not, you have to tickle him to get him going.
My mom has always maintained that baby boys are much more lovey than baby girls. True, true, true. Even to this day, whenever I ask Grant for a "squeezy tight" or a "kissy-goo," I am immediately granted my wish. And very often I get "loves" unrequested (my favorite). When I tuck Grant in bed at night, he holds me tight and I whisper in his ear (with his arms still wrapped around me), "I lovey my baby Grant." And then he squeezes tighter. And then I melt and say sorry for ever getting mad at him. And then I kiss him 100 times more and squeeze him again before leaving his room. It's the sweetest (or maybe just a really good stall tactic, but I won't hold that against him).
Grant also uses hugs and kisses, instead of words, to say sorry. He'll even hug playground kids that he hurts (usually accidentally). Oh, and a kiss makes everything feel all better -- on him (which happens approximately once every three and a half minutes because he's a hypochondriac -- every body parts "hurts"), and on other people. He will kiss anyone's owie -- you just have to let him know.
Grant and I stayed up late tonight (due to a late nap), and we danced to a country song in the living room. He giggled the whole time, and I thought to myself, "This must be how Heaven sounds -- children laughing all the time." Even his eyes sparkled. I wanted to take a picture of him to show you how beautiful he was -- not just because he's my kid and I think he's just the handsomest, but because kids are beautiful; and if you look closely, you can see a glimpse of eternity in their faces. I asked Grant if I could take his picture, and he looked at me, smiled, and matter-of-factly replied, "Nope." And so it was. But that's my precious two-year-old baby Grant.
PS: Unbeknownst to Grant, I have a stockpile of photos to post any time I please. This one was taken at Manito Park a couple of weeks ago. The kids wanted to take their bikes/Nicole's brand new "big girl" scooter, but Manito Park really ought to post a large sign recommending no bikes due to mostly dirt trails or poorly paved paths that were very steep (oh, and tons of stairs). Next time we'll all walk.
