Three

Miles often says, "tell me about that venture," which is a way of saying, "tell me a story about an adventure." Lately we tell him the story of the day he was born. At his current age, (three today!) he thinks it's a pretty boring tale. He often adds a dinosaur or a giant to mix it up a bit. I on the other hand am thrilled there were actually no dinosaurs or giants, because I was already terrified enough as it was. Scared of labor, scared of the pain, scared of the unknown, scared to bring a life into this crazy world...

I can't believe we are three years removed from that day.

I made a dvd of photos from the last few years, set to music for Miles' birthday. I could sit and watch it all night. I let it run during his party today. Every once and awhile I could be found standing frozen in front of the tv, watching intently, plate of half-eaten cake in my hand, choked up and smiling.

There on the screen were seasons of the last three years, flashing before me. Photos taken in the Spring as my toddling baby checked out budding flowers and shed his jacket, welcoming the new warmth. Summer fun in the dirt, playing at the water table and hanging out at the park. Autumn days spent rolling in the leaves and bundling up, awaiting winter's frozen spell. And with Winter arriving, snowsuits, shoveling and hunting for a Christmas tree.

The pictures were full of stages. Learning to walk, to share a toy with a friend, and to share a life with a new brother. From having a completely bald head, to a very full and often unkempt head of hair. From sitting in a high chair, face covered in food, to dinner at the table just like a grown-up.

And the pictures were full of memories. Of good times shared with family and friends that just would not have been the same without the joyful Miles in tow. His steady, strong and peaceful spirit is contagious.

Moving across the tv was a little boy with a runny nose and often, fresh bumps and scrapes. There was laughter, with a tiny fist shoved as far as possible into a little mouth. There were frowns and scowls, newly practiced. There were flashes of shoes that no longer fit, and clothes worn I now see on Asher.

Like a movie of a different time, I watched a baby boy with full cheeks and wispy hair. He is beaming and thrilled with each new discovery. In his eyes there is life, curiosity and gentleness. He is always on the go, always adventuring, always free.

He arrived three years ago today, after much excitement, stress, fear, joy and strain with no end in sight. That was the day he became our beginning. There was every reason in the world to be scared. And a million more reasons to be thrilled.

Happy Birthday, Miles!