The Nut

Five years ago today, Rick received the phone call from our attorney's office that informed us of our first baby's birth. Because of Louisiana law, we wouldn't be able to see Liam for five days, so Rick asked, "What does he look like?"

The answer was, "He's tiny. He has lots of soft, curly hair. He's just a little peanut."

And his nickname immediately became Peanut. I had thought long and hard to come up with a handsome name for him. But as soon as that phone call came, I knew that we would call him by nickname more often than Liam Edward.

But it's amazing how the nickname fit him. When I first saw him, he was so tiny that the newborn clothes I sent for him to wear did not fit him, and the attorney's assistant had him dressed in a t-shirt. We bought him preemie clothes the next day, because newborn clothes swallowed him. He was a Peanut indeed.

Over the years, however, Peanut has morphed into other names such as Peanutty, P, P Diddy, Nutty, NutBall, and The Nut. And he is The Nut. He's constantly making us laugh with his goofy comments, silly questions, and crazy antics.

Last night, I pulled out the t-shirt he was wearing when I first laid eyes on him. Actually, I've done this every year on his birthday.

Unfortunately, I've never taken pictures of him in it. It's been sort of a silent moment of celebration for me every year. I put the shirt on him to remember that wonderful day in which I held my first baby for the very first time, the moment in which my heart stopped because my world was finally complete.

But I wanted to take pictures last night, because The Nut is no longer a tiny peanut, and I fear he won't be able to fit into it the shirt next year. As I forced it over his head, I told him my plan of taking pictures, and he immediately turned into The Nut and was ready to perform.

Here are photos of my silly 5 year old in his baby shirt that is now a halter top:



Did I tell you he's nutty? And then, I wanted a picture of the two of us in our matching shirts, which I promise I didn't plan this morning. And mine doesn't reveal my belly, thankfully.

"Liam, could you please give us one nice smile tonight?" Not a chance.





That's better. That's my boy. I'm sad that he's already 5, but I'm eager to see what he will become in the next 5.

For new readers, Liam's adoption story is here and here.