This Is Us

Chapter 18

I swear I think Walker is wired for sound at a very early 3 in the morning the day of his birthday. If he said more than his couple of words I'm almost positive he'd be telling me an incredible story filled with all the superheroes and villains that battle in far off lands to the death or at least until whatever relic is won or lost. Instead, it's a melody that's all his own, sounds of each letter in the alphabet, different tones and pitches that I'm positive make complete sense inside his own brain.

Oh how I wish I could see inside his brain.

There are days in which he retreats into his own world, a world that I so desperately try to become a part of. Sometimes I can weasel my way in, fighting tooth and nail to get there for even a moment to be a part of his world and the inner workings there in. But nine times out of ten, he's in his space for a reason whether that be his comfort space or the outside world is too much to handle.

I can't blame him for having a safe space to retreat to, my longing for one myself has been pushed too far back for me to find most days.

Today doesn't seem to be one of his introspective, quiet days. No, today he's that excited boy that fits my phrase 'From son up to son down.'

And I'm perfectly fine with it, even if I was up til midnight trying to make his cake perfect for today.

I know it's a big breakfast, and who could possibly want a cake at ten in the morning? Well, when the cake is actually a tower of decorated donuts to fit all those superheroes and villains he loves so much, you may as well call it cake decorating.

I turn off the baby monitor, wondering why I actually still use it considering I can hear him quite easily with how loud he is most mornings. I don't bother running through any form of morning routine for myself at the moment, not even a glance in the mirror, instead meeting my sweet boy in the hallway where he's clutching his Captain America and Iron Man action figures, one in each hand.

"Have you used the potty?" I ask, and sign the question. He shakes his head no but makes for the bathroom without a second thought.

I shuffle my way into the kitchen, canceling the coffee pot's automatic timer that was set for six and go ahead and start the first of many cups to be brewed today. I double check the donuts, thankful that the icing is all exactly the way I left them. The tower will be put together the closer we get to nine, before everyone comes in at nine-thirty.

Just as the first cup is poured, Walker bounds down the hallway at full speed, sliding into the kitchen with his little stocking feet. "Whoa, dude! That was pretty far that time!" I squeal, leading him to fall over into a fit of giggles. When he's calmed himself, he signs that he's hungry.

"Of course you are, buddy." I open the pantry, his little footsteps following behind me. His eyes scan until he's pointing to the very top shelf. "Cereal?" I ask and sign. He nods and grunts in a way that I know is his version of yes. I pull down his two options, letting him point to which one he wants. His eyes dart between the two, finally settling on the Fruity Pebbles with his index finger. "Fruity Pebbles it is," I yawn.

I set it on the counter, along with a bowl and milk. I ask for Walker to grab his special spoon out of the drawer. As he passes it off to me, I hold his hand in mine, crouching down to his level. "Happy Birthday, my love!" and kiss all over his face.

I'm thankful today is a 'giggle box' kind of day. It makes me feel like he's more present with me. The last birthday that any of our actual family came to was the complete opposite. His own little world was holding his attention more than the one around him, and I couldn't do anything to have him join us. My parents, along with Ian's left moaning and grumbling about what a waste the event was, of both money and time.