The Baby Boy~
The baby boy that I hoped so much for.
The baby boy that I admitted to Brian I wouldn't know how to properly care for (after having two baby girls).
The baby boy that would sit on his Daddy's lap for hours.
The baby boy that almost ate a toad.
The baby boy that took three tries to potty train.
The Little Boy~
The little boy who was scared of his Bob The Builder costume (even though Bob was his hero).
The little boy who walked around our home 'playing' leaf blower and weed eater all day (with full sound effects...how did that child not get a headache?).
The little boy who put his pop gun in the microwave only days after his Daddy left for Afghanistan (Brian called, and I cried, "You have to come back home. I cannot raise this little boy without you!").
The little boy who asked for his Soldier-Daddy back three times a day, every single day, for 545 days.
The little boy who played soccer like an absolute maniac when he was five years old.
The little boy who fell in head-over-heels-love with his baby brother, Wesley.
The Big Boy~
The big boy who learned Math on his fingers AND toes.
The big boy who literally dreamed of his own Red Ryder BB Gun.
The big boy who was on the Champion Baseball Team his very first season of baseball.
The big boy who studies (hard) Army Regulation Manuals and the backs of Baseball Cards.
The big boy who loves his Cincinnati Reds.
The big boy whose hero is no longer Bob The Builder. But his DAD.
...
Is Nine Now.
And he is not a baby boy. Or a little boy. Or even a big boy.
He is just a boy.
And I will blink again, and he'll be a young man.
Be still my heart.Happy Birthday, Connor. I love you.
