Let it not go unmentioned that my beloved youngest son, Riker Timothy Owen James turned one year old this weekend. Unlike his big brother, who sobs when presented with baked goods, Riker enjoyed his cupcake. For about two seconds. Then he threw it on the ground, popped his paci back into his mouth and stared at me while I tried to convince him to eat it.
Riker was my first real labor (never went into actual labor with Caden) and I can strongly attest to the fact that a year later I still clearly remember two things about his birth day: 1- It hurt, it hurt worse than anything in my entire life. 2- When they put his little warm body on my chest the second he was born. he was so warm, and so beautiful; I was beyond joy, beyond happy. My little son.
Riker is smart, he’s funny, he has the most kissable cheeks ever, except for Caden’s. He has a hilarious opinion about everything, and gets so excited when I get home from work that he flaps his arms like he’s trying to fly to me. He’s snuggly, and doesn’t like being alone. He sleeps with a bear named Tim. He looks like Aaron when he smiles (dimple and all), and he looks like me when he cries (frowny forehead).
Riker- You are my snuggly little pickle. I hope that soon you get as good at going down the stairs as you are at going up them. I can’t wait to see more of who you are. When I met your brother and saw how smart and handsome he was, I didn’t think I’d get so lucky twice. I was wrong, you are a beautiful little guy, and I love being your mom.