Cameron is Coco-nuts

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It's snowing this morning - just like it was four years ago today, when I was making my big-assed way to  our local hospital to give birth. And that day was filled with monumental events. For starters, the epidural - the one that my labor nurse so grandly suggested that I get early - ran out mid-labor. (Nobody told me those things aren't, like, unlimited ... or that they won't give you a refill or whatever after a certain point. Hmmph!) Two, despite the fact that my exact thought while pushing was, "OMG this feels like the biggest poop ever," I did not actually poop. Which is amazing because, out of three kids now, that's the only time that hasn't happened. (What can I say? My bowels are dedicated to doing their job, y'all.)

But the most monumental event of January 17th, 2008 was the moment I first laid eyes on my second son: Cameron Scott. He had a puffy face, the arm-muscle definition of a professional wrestler (are babies supposed to look like that?), and the hairiest back I have ever seen ... but he was beautiful because he was my baby. I was now a mother of two. And Colin was a big brother. When we first introduced the two of them, Colin was in awe. He gingerly touched Cameron's tiny toes, got his fingers tangled in all the back hair (okay, not really, but he probably could've). And then he leaned down to sweetly whisper the first words he would ever say to his little brother: "Do you want some of my Skittles?"

There marked both the beginning and the end of the brotherly sharing.

For the last four years, I've watched this hairy little man-beast become more and more handsome (and less fuzzy, thank goodness), watched his mind blossom into a spectacularly random thinking machine that amuses and amazes me daily, and watched his relationships with his brothers unfold.

I've also cleaned up messes that literally made me beg for divine guidance, shaken my head at my little boy's ability to do more damage than a force of nature, dealt with eating habits that are beyond strange, and practically had to live in earplugs for a three-month period. And ohhhh, the endless nose-picking:

But boogers aside, Cameron brings a joy into our lives that makes up for any amount of appalling grossness he contributes (and trust me, that's a lot). He has an innate sweetness, a big-hearted nature that makes him irresistibly lovable. He's funny without intending to be, which makes him even more hilarious. And he's a bundle of silly, fun-loving energy.

Did I mention he's almost always naked?

As I struggle to write this post - because how can you sum someone up in so few words? - I'm reminded of a perfect example of one of the reasons I adore this little dude. The other day, the boys were looking out our bedroom window at the frozen woods in our backyard.

"What do you see?" I asked them.

"I see birds," said Colin, as the birds flitted from bare branch to bare branch.

"I see squirrels," Coby chimed in as one scampered by.

"I see coconuts!" bellowed Cameron in his big little voice.

......?

That's Cameron for ya.

So happy 4th birthday, buddy. Let's think about getting that finger out of that nose this year, hmm? And maybe wearing pants once in a while, and possibly eating fewer paper products?

But don't change too much ... because I hope you never lose the ability to see coconuts in a winter landscape.

Now let's have some cake.

Check out that look in his eye. Just like his mama for the world. :)