Broder was born.
It was apparent at birth (as it has been everyday since) that this kid was something else. My midwives took a look at him: small, scrawny, howling and made the prediction that he would weigh somewhere around 6.5 lbs. Then they picked him up and weighed him. 8lbs 3ozs. One of the midwives said she had never seen a newborn with muscle tone like that. No fat, and already strong.
8lbs, 3ozs of tightly wound. We should have known we would be in for a ride.
Most of you know our dear Broder. He is wonderful, and wild, and crazy, and delightful, and a challenge every single day. We wouldn’t trade him for the world.
As a baby he was not content. Yowling and screaming were his preferred methods of communication. For 18 months he was attached to me, either in a sling, in the backpack, or at the breast, truly, this kid never left my side.
Since the day of his birth, my dear little boy has been bigger than life. He gets mad easier, runs faster, yells louder, hugs stonger, cries easier, loves harder.
This is the kid who potty trained in 21 hours. In an epic battle of the wills. He announced to me one day, at 2 and 1/2 years old, that he no longer wore diapers. I said “great!”, he said “I only pee outside”. and so I locked the front door, and told him, “you may pee outside as soon as you show me you can use the potty inside” (keep in mind, we really didn’t have neighbors in sight). He said “no, I only pee outside”. I reiterated my expectation. And we were at an impasse.
that was at 11am. And he held it, all day and all night, despite countless glasses of water, juice, milk. He threw an amazing fit when I put him in a diaper to sleep in. I mentioned again, that if he would use the potty inside I would be happy to leave the diaper off. “no, I only pee outside”. I kissed my little grump and put him to bed.
8am the next morning, I hear howls and sobs coming from the entryway. There is my baby boy, frantically trying to open the front door, “I ONLY PEE OUTSIDE!!!!!” It was all I could do not to open the front door and send him out into the snow. But before I could give in, he fell to the floor, a screaming, peeing heap of mad Broder. He picked himself off the floor, stomped into the bathroom, took off his diaper, found a little more urine somewhere within him, and used the potty. Another kiss for my stubborn darling and I unlocked the front door.
Who has ever heard of a 2.5 year old holding his urine for 21 hours?
The last 9 years are filled with stories like that. The concussion he got trying to jump off a higher step then Kjell. The 7 bee stings he got one day, when he had to go “just a little farther” into the woods. The black eye he gave his mother while playing in the swimming pool. Everyday is an adventure.
He is so much kid. He aggravates his siblings, and he loves them so very very much. He is certain that his daddy hung the moon. He regularly tells me that I am the most beautiful mommy on earth (really who can argue with that?). Other kids flock to him like moths to a flame, and boy does he ever burn bright. A beautiful, wild, bright flame of a boy. A dear friend even named her newborn son Broder, in part after my Broder, he really is that infectious.
I can’t look back on these last 9 years and say there has ever been a day where I have gone to bed and said “well, that was an easy day parenting Broder.”
I honestly don’t think that day will ever come.
I don’t think I would want it to.
Broder, I love you.