In anticipation of Sylvan’s big day tomorrow, his fourth birthday, here are some shots of him, on or near his birthday over the past five years.
All cleaned up and asleep in Aunt Jenn's arms after the difficult business of being born
First birthday: reading a birthday book
Second birthday: balloon madness
Third birthday: opening presents, eating pretzels
Nearly four: watching a wet parade last week
Chris, my sister Jenn, and I hiked up Mt. Pisgah the day before Sylvan was born. It was September 11, and I was silently grateful that my unborn child apparently wasn’t going to share a birthday with a tragedy whose date figures rather prominently whenever it’s mentioned, but I did want to spur things along. It was five days past my due date (a date Chris reminds me is arbitrary, since our human gestation time of 40 weeks was simply made up; he might tell you more about that if you ask nicely).
Sylvan Alexander Jones was born at 4:45 p.m. the following day. The blackberries, 2 mile steep uphill hike, corresponding 2 mile pounding downhill hike, and happy thoughts apparently did the trick. To commemorate this successful hike, I thought we’d hike up Mt. Pisgah the day before each of Sylvan’s birthdays. In true parental fashion, I managed to make that work for birthday #1. Birthday #2’s hike was a week and a half late, birthday #3’s didn’t happen at all, and #4? Well, Sylvan put the kibosh on it tonight. Maybe within the next few weeks? Here are some photos of the little Sylvan I could still easily carry up to the top.
Almost 1, looking through sculpture at top (and resembling Elena)
Just over 2, dropping rocks into the sculpture at the summit (and resembling a tiger)