Is it still called Sweet Sixteen when it’s for a boy? Doubtful. So let’s say that my oldest boy York just had his Super Sixteenth birthday. It ended up being on a Sunday and that is not a fun day for Mormons to have a birthday. We are strict Sabbath observers (meaning we don’t go out to eat or to movies. Even if it’s a special occasion.) So York ended up having an entire birthday weekend. Mister’s parents were in town so it was nice to have them around. My sister-in-law was also visiting (different side of the family but they all live in Portland so how coincidental is that? Especially since my sister-in-law has never even been to Austin before.)
York is my easiest-going child. India was pretty easy and I thought she was a dream until I had York. What a golden baby. He’s been mellow and pleasant since the day he was born. My pediatrician told me not to worry about waking my babies up to feed them, “when they’re hungry, they’ll let you know,” he said. When I took York in for his 3-month check up his weight had gone from the 20th percentile (my babies are always scrawny) to the 3rd. Being an insecure new-ish mother I put my head down on the paper covering on the table and sobbed. “He never cries!” I blubbered, “so I thought he was never hungry.” The doctor reassured me that I wasn’t a bad mother and to feed him a little more often.
York caught up in weight and has been growing madly ever since. He’s 6′ tall now and looks to keep going.
York has a wacky, extraverted personality. He loves to talk and usually wanders the room as he speaks. His can-do personality means that will do anything you ask him to without complaining. I know most mothers wish their children to be smart or good-looking, but hard-working and not-complainy is much, much better. He’s had a hilarious sense of humor since he was tiny and I enjoy him to pieces. I don’t know what I did to luck out and get this kid.