On saying yes

Now that he’s crossed the magical first year threshold, Simon has decided that he is big. Not that he ever thought he was little. Simon was four months old when he shook off the reins of infancy and got moving, and he has never looked back. But now … now he’s decided that he’s really big. A preschooler, really. Because who has time to toddle when there are three siblings just a touch bigger than you to keep up with?

Simon is not–has never been– one of those babies that you’d lump into that magical “easy” category. No matter what your definition of “easy” is (and everyone seems to have their own version), he’s challenged it. He has never slept longer than a five hour stretch. He likes to be held and is not above demanding it in a screeching, peel-the-paint-off-the-walls wail. He climbs. He is a picky eater. He refuses to give his Daddy and I a bit of privacy. He nurses aggressively and without much concern for the fact that someone else’s body is involved in the process. He refuses routine. He twists like an electrocuted shark when a diaper change is being undertaken. He shrieks for a solid ten minutes when his Daddy leaves for work. He makes a beeline for the stairs the second my back is turned. He thinks his car seat is a torture device and acts accordingly.

He’s a pill, to be honest. But he’s also one of our greatest delights.

Simon sleeps nestled between Christopher and I, with one hand resting gently on his Daddy’s shoulder and one entwined in my hair. He loves to explore shapes and colors with his hands. He snorts with sheer joy when he sees either John Mark or Jack. He plunks himself down at the piano bench and bangs and dances and babbles. He bobs his head to the beat of just about any Paul McCartney song, but is particularly fond of Jet. His “Dada!” is a shrill little exclamation that comes closer to pure joy than any other sound I’ve ever heard. He settles on my lap, snuggling his head just under my chin while I knit, and kicks his feet at my sides. He says “da dooo” whenever he gets what he wants. He spears bits of banana with a tiny lobster fork and laughs. He claps when we pray.

If you’ve ever looked at a family —any family, no matter the size–and wondered why they have said yes to children, this is why: because the bad is always outweighed by the good. Because the risk is worth the benefit. Because the happy overshadows the hard. Because children are worth the investment. And the return is priceless.