Through the phone I heard him crying.
I knew it was him, his cry was so different.
The nurse on the phone told me that it was not my baby and I needed to get some rest and Lance assured me that there was a room full of newborns down there and ours was fine.
I've been me for years...
And to please my neurotic ways, Lance took a trip down to the nursery to give me the reassurance that our baby was sleeping and content.
But he wasn't.
He was crying, and a nurse was walking him around trying to soothe him.
I don't know why I thought that at 24 and just hours into motherhood, I'd know how to soothe him any better than the women who do it for a living-- but I wanted him.
It was natural.
And that's how our story goes.
Saturday night I was watching a movie in my bedroom with my sister and I thought I heard him crying.
Allison didn't hear anything, but it's like ultra-sonic waves-- I can hear it through walls and under water I am pretty sure...
I got up and made it to the living room and found him curling into Lance's chest, tears everywhere.
He had played a killer game that morning in soccer.
Not only did he score 5 out of our team's 7 points,
He played great on defense and used actual skill that he has been taught rather than just aimlessly kicking and running.
He also spoke at half time about what it means to have a good attitude.
They picked a kid of each age, 5-9 and lined them up in chronological order.
Lance immediately looked at me with wild eyes and whispered, "there is NO telling what he is going to say."
But poised and mature, he answered first, having a good attitude in sports means "Being good and just having fun, and just playing your soccer, and just enjoying your day."
He had curled up in his daddy's lap Saturday night and Lance started telling him how proud he was of him, not just in soccer but in general.
How precious and special and unique he is...
and then for some reason beyond anything I'll ever understand, Lance said, "if something were to ever happen to me, I'd want to make sure that your know these things...."
Lance is married to me--
Maddox is my clone--
This could only go one direction.
I rushed in and changed the tone of our conversation and he made us laugh when he said the reason he played so well is because he "just imagined that the whole world is cheering for him"-- and he apologized for knocking a kid over when going for the ball, he said he "just got carried away"!
He's actually my harder kid most days, right now.
And I am not ignorant to the fact that he's a turd too.
But we are proud of him.
and truly believe, he is special.
He is a great example for Beckham.
And pray that they are always as close as they are now.
With a splash of meanness too--
just to please Lance's ornery side.
Speaking of ornery...
Let me update you on Beckham.
He is my little sidekick.
Rarely more than a step from me at all times.
To me, he is loving and affectionate, and sweet and funny.
He wants to be touching me or playing near me at most times.
To the rest of the world he is quiet, reserved, and they see him mostly sitting back and taking in the world without much expression either way.
Even around friends, he rarely talks.
He has a lot to say on the way to play--
but while we are there, he's just kind of the shadow-- quietly being a part.
To Lance, he is ornery.
He talks about Lance a lot during the day and plays with his toys making one daddy and telling them how much he loves him...
but when Lance is actually here,
he could care less about him.
To Maddox, he is rotten.
He can already almost beat him up and if Maddox doesn't get tougher, in another year he will take him.
But he idolizes him too--
and can not stand to be with him at all times.
He was even laughing hard the other night in his sleep. Full on belly chuckling-- and at the end, he said, "oh Bubba..."
I think it was actually the night that Maddox came into the living room crying.
He said, "Momma, you know the story about David and Goliath? Well the same thing just happened to me, with a Lego, from Beckham!"
Beckham is the biggest momma's boy ever.
Incredibly independent and demands to do everything "by mytelf" and so stubborn that he doesn't quit until he does.
I have written a little about the potty training adventures of Beckham, but I don't know that I have mapped it completely out in blog.
Beckham basically decided that he was going to potty train himself at the beginning of summer.
One day he stayed dry the entire day and then asked to tee tee in the potty.
He went to bed and woke up dry and immediately wanted on the potty to tinkle again.
From that day on, he quit wetting his diapers. He would ask to go potty-- we would un-velcro, he would potty, and then I would put it back on, sure it was a fluke.
But it wasn't... and before too long, we ditched the diaper all together.
It was that easy.
He did it "himtelf".
I think he has had one or maybe two tee tee accidents.
but the day he decided (I had planned on waiting until after our two 10 hour car rides we had planned this summer) to potty in the toilet, he did.
Even overnight, he holds his bladder well.
Pooping has not been the same success.
At first he would just find a corner and poop in his underwear.
I would dump them into the toilet and explain that he had to go on the potty.
But he could care less.
Then I bought him special Mouse underwear and told him that we would have to throw them in the trash if he pooped in them--
He pooped and then nonchalantly asked, "these go in the trash?"
He didn't care.
He finally just started asking for a diaper when he needed to poop.
Lazy, but I was so sick of washing out disgusting underwear, I folded to his requests!
Not to mention that we still have a case of diapers, and we might as well use them!
Over the last couple of weeks, he is refusing the diapers but has started holding it for a day or two.
He wants to poop in the potty, but he is just so scared.
Crying and complaining.
He has mastered it four times and we have made a huge deal.
Yesterday I almost claimed a potty training completion as he had 2 successful days in a row without tears--
but then he crapped his pants last night.
That's Beckham, everything is in his own time.
He takes things apart and puts them back together--
he won't take your word, and rarely follows advice without testing it on his own.
Just like talking.
I am pretty sure that is always going to be his story.
And for that, I believe he is capable of moving mountains one day.