In June, the boys turned three. I can't believe that they are already so grown up. It seems like yesterday that they were tiny and helpless, and now they are constantly in motion wanting to do things "by myself." I know that I am still behind on the chronicle of our last few months, but I thought it was worthwhile to insert a little bit of current cuteness.
When the boys were born, I bought these letters thinking that every year we'd take a picture with them to see how much they have grown. In this picture, James is three weeks old. At the three year old check up, he was 34 pounds and 40.25 inches which puts him above the 95th percentile for height, and we call him little man without a trace of irony.
Little Man at a year old. Bob showed James a picture of himself at around this age the other day, and he asked James what happened to all his hair. He patted his head and said "it's right here, Dad."
My two year old handsome man with his coordinating pacifier. Seeing this picture makes me remember how much James loved to rub the string on his nose. Not long after this picture was taken, we ditched the pacifier tether, but he is still never too far from his "pah fire."
I think this is my favorite letter picture of James so far. I love how his little eye is peeking through with his big grin. James is all about fun. He still loves racing, horses, horse racing, cars, and watching toy cars race on youtube. He also is a fan of dinosaurs and watching dinosaur stuff on youtube. He is my most technologically advanced guy. He has figured out the iPhone/iPad like a pro. He went through a phase of being completely addicted to Temple Run - he could outscore me to an embarrassing extent.
In this picture, I see a whole lot of Cain genes. I don't know why but when I look at him, James sometimes reminds me so much of my dad. I find it kind of cool because he's named after his two other grandpas, so to look a little like my dad seems fitting. His frame is all Newhouse. Kathy tells me how much his physique reminds her of Bob at the same age. He definitely has wide feet like Bob, lacks a caboose that will hold up his pants, ribs that you can count in the front and back of him, and a fair hint of mischief as well.
This handsome boy is not always crafty. He is genuinely kind, tender hearted, frightened of toy thievery committed by Michael, and so sensitive. He is my little love. He's a mama's boy, and I'm not complaining one bit. If something happens that causes him to feel upset in any way, he will grab his blanket, pacifier, and my hand then head to my bed. He crawls in, pats the mattress, covers up, tells me to take my hair out of the clip and get under the covers, then lays there until he is ready to come out. It reminds me of an antebellum lady getting the vapors and taking to her bed. I love it. He's such a character. In the mornings, he climbs into bed with me, grabs my phone, and curls up for a cuddle and some youtube. I think it's one of the best parts of my day.
This shot sums up the joys of brotherhood. James is always putting an arm around his brothers. Lately, not only do they come to me for comfort, they hug each other. It is the sweetest thing ever to watch them together. From the womb, I've told these little men that they are not only brothers but best friends, and they certainly are. It touches my heart beyond measure.