Three is the magic number

keep art alive; photograph by Bree

My darling boy turned three on the last day of May. Three years ago he came into my life. I remember the first night with just him and I in the hospital room together. I was lying there with him crooked under my arm thinking you will change my life forever.

When I first discovered I was having a boy I panicked. The kind of fear that grips you far below the surface and nags at you, whispering doubts and worries as you try to drift off into sleep.What on earth did I know of boys? It seemed so unimaginable and foreign, especially after being the mother of a daughter -- or two, eventually -- for over a decade.

I remember Kate assured me that there would be a bond I would never have known before, and that we would teach each other. That I would do just fine.

What he has taught me, in the mere three years he has been in my life, is immeasurable. I feel like there are parts of my heart that he has cracked wide open; pieces that I did not even know existed, until Max. He is a quiet strength in a family that is a bit more boisterous than most, and who tend to wear every emotion pinned right on their sleeve.

He has taught me to listen more, to learn from silences, and to notice some of the more intricate details of this world.

What he does share with all those in his family is a love of music. Whether he is singing into the vacuum cleaner, banging away made-up melodies on the Sesame Street piano inherited from his sisters, dancing around to the likes of 90's boy bands, Babyshambles, and electro clash -- he definitely has the music in him.

Cars and playgrounds, ghost words, and nicknames; Teletubbies, English football, and Thomas the Train; Jay Jay the Jet Plane, following his sisters, and stealing blankets and spaces in bed; Telling knock-knock jokes, saying "my friend Momma", and "I love you" in a soft whisper; trying on lipstick, inflections that go from highs to lows, and being our Pizza Man-Pip-Bubba-and Maxie. Those are just part of what makes up Max.

His party was celebrated at one of his favorite parks. His sister picked out a special pairing of Sally and Lightning McQueen in their "cruising" get-ups. McQueen is all chrome and white wall tires, reminds me of this drive-in and hamburger joint we went to when I was a kid that would have waitresses on rollar skates, and classic cars with dice hanging from the rearview mirror. It was his favorite of his gift, even the train sets and football. Veronica may torment and tease, but deep down she loves her brother, and seems to know him best of all of us.

Max licking the side of his birthday cake, then checking around to see if anyone was watching, and sneaking another lick and a bite, was by far the highlight of the party. I remember getting his own tiny cake for his first year party, and he just sat there and stared at it. Eventually his puzzlement took a bit of action, and he touched the frosting with the very tip of his finger to taste. For a moment I could see the just turned a year baby boy in him meeting up with the learning to be a bit sly boy he is becoming.

As we grow do we not all carry pieces of each year in our lives? If you look closely you can see the baby, the three year old, the teenager, and the adult in everyone you pass in this life. And, when I look at my newly three year old, I see all of it, and more.

He is more that a bit of magic and full of love, this boy of mine.
Happy Birthday, Max.
Thank you for coming into my life.

A man and a woman

had a little baby

Yeah they did

Three Is The Magic Number ~ Blind Melon

L.