To my Buddy Bear

Well the snow is flying and that can only mean one thing. Today, December 3rd, my little Buddy Bear turns four years old. I would say it doesn't seem that long ago but actually, it does. We've often said, and by often I mean as recent as last night, "If Blake would have came first, we would have never had an Emily." I used to think my grey hairs started when I got Adam. That was NOTHING compared to my Blake. I love spending time with Blake but I think I would enjoy our time even more if he would just "quit it." Quit getting into the refrigerator. Quit getting into my purse. Quit trying to cut open packages with scissors. Quit using his Leggo table, a Rubbermaid tote, a small folding chair, a dining room chair--whatever to get up on the counter, the table, the dryer, the bathroom counter. Quit getting into the Band-aids. I swear he opened up 3 boxes of them 2 weeks ago, and where most kids just put them on their bodies, Blake put them...who knows where. All I know is I had zero Band-aids left and I couldn't find a single one stuck to anything.

Threats are nothing to him and cuss words are his new thing. Today he told me, "It's my birthday, bitches!" After we got groceries as we pulled up in front of the building he declared, "I'm home, bitches!" (Don't worry, we're working on putting a stop to that, although sometimes, when we're not out in public, it makes us giggle.)

Yes, our Blake has always been a maniac. Right from the day he was born. Sure he looked sweet.



Even when Emily held him for the first time and said, "He's cute isn't he?" Yep. He even had her fooled.



But you can look into his eyes and see it. The craziness.





He does have his moments. The ones where he finally lets you breathe and you can take a step back and say, "Geez, he's not so bad!"





Then he wakes up and you're fighting to keep him from putting those stupid boots on again.



But we sure do love you, buddy.



Even when you would drool and have mystery baby food stuck to your nose.



Even when you puked on us. (Which is exactly what happened RIGHT after this photo, even though he doesn't look like he's about to yakk. Sorry Susie! Thanks for being such a sport!)



We love to hold you and have fun with you. Even now that you don't always want to be held.






Even when you get scared of your first fireworks and throw the blanket over your head for cover.



You will always be my hero.




Despite your obvious drinking problem.