Good Friends

Late last week we planned a last-minute trip to St. Louis – Andy’s grandfather was ill and we wanted to go visit him sooner rather than later. The only thing was, Saturday Sam’s birthday.

I was a little worried that Sam’s birthday was going to get lost in the shuffle, and I wanted to make sure we made the day special for him, even with everything else that was going on.

I emailed my friend Gina, who lives outside St. Louis, asking where I should order a Cardinals birthday cake, and she immediately wrote back saying she’d make him one.

Later that day, I was IM’ing with my friend Beth, telling her about our trip and my concern about Sam’s birthday. “Are the Cardinals in town?” she asked me. “You should take him to the game.” Next thing I know, she says she’s arranged for four tickets to be waiting for us at will call.

Saturday morning, Gina drove into the city and delivered this:

Needless to say, Sam loved it.

Later, we surprised Sam by taking him to the baseball game.

Sam had a great third birthday, in no small part because I have such good friends.

We are both pretty lucky.

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Sam.

Sam’s birthday was Saturday. I am having a hard time believing he’s three. In some ways it seems like it was yesterday when he was born. In other ways, it seems like he’s always been with us.

Even though he’s only three, he’s got a few great loves in his life. His house (the kid is a total homebody), his sister, and baseball.

Especially baseball.

The day Sam was born, my dad christened him “Sluggin’ Sam.” The next day Dad went to the Reds game and snagged the first fly ball he’d ever caught, after, you know, about 50 years of trying. He brought it to Sam at the hospital.

By Sam’s first birthday, his favorite word was “ball.” He couldn’t walk, but he already loved to play ball. I had the brilliant idea to have a ball motif for his birthday party – we could decorate with all sorts of balls and we could serve melon balls and meat balls and all sorts of things… but his father quickly determined that the theme for his party could not be BALLS.

By his second birthday, he called himself “Baseball Sammy.” He never went anywhere without his baseball cap and “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” was his favorite song.

Last weekend, we spent his third birthday at one of his very favorite places in the world – Busch Stadium – watching his beloved Cardinals.

He was SO excited. Random strangers took pictures and video taped him yelling “Go Cardinals, GO!!!!” My facebook page was not the only one featuring Sam that day.

Sam’s interests aren’t particularly diverse or varied – he finds something he likes and sticks with it. But his passion and enthusiasm are inspiring to me, and I learn from him every day.

He is such a great kid.

Happy birthday, Baseball Sammy. I love you more than everything put together.

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Can I have the terrible twos back?

The “terrible twos” weren’t so terrible this past year for our Sam. He didn’t pitch a lot of fits, he was only in time out a handful of times… it went pretty smoothly. Or at least that’s how I remember it – a trip through the blog archives might tell a different story! But for now I am sticking with my rose colored glasses and saying wistfully “remember when?”

Because three? It’s not shaping up to be so easy.

Sam won’t even turn three for another two and a half weeks, but already I can see changes in his personality. He’s more demanding and more fond of the word “no.” We had a battle of the wills tonight when I assured him he wouldn’t get to watch Return of the Jedi until all his Star Wars figures were cleaned up. He just did not want to do it, and while he finally acquiesced, I wasn’t sure how it was all going to play out.

He’s also been more difficult to get to bed, and this time change is not helping the situation at all. He’s becoming a master at stalling, and continually wants one more drink or one more book or the one that gets me every time – “I want to rock.” And he’s not happy until he’s got both Andy and me in on the bedtime routine… just one of us won’t do!

The last time I went in to rock him tonight, it was nearly 10:00. He fell asleep in my arms almost as soon as I sat down in the rocking chair. That time, though, I wasn’t in as big of a hurry to put him down, and spent a few minutes staring at his sweet little face. I could almost see the tiny newborn baby he once was.

Eventually I put him down and went back into our room. I looked at Andy and said “He’s such a sweet boy… when he’s asleep.”

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