My Sweet Boy,
I see you. I see you clearer than anyone who has ever met you. How, you ask? Because I see so much of myself in you. As you approach your fifth birthday, I hope you know how much I love you. Every day. Good days. Bad days. Every single one, I love you with my whole heart.
You work so hard to make every new tower and every new car just right. You have your plan in your head and you do not like it when anyone tries to change your plan. But as a four-year-old, you don’t really have the tools to explain that to anyone yet. Time has taught me how to kindly tell people to butt out of my plans, and how to listen when someone has a better plan. This year, I will try to show you how.
In so many ways, you have been ready for kindergarten since you were three. You have been excited to start just like the big kids after when you realized that’s why those they weren’t at daycare anymore. You have been an enthusiastic learner since you were two. “He knows his letters and sounds better than most of the big kids,” they told me at daycare. Now at four years old, you have counted as high as 212, or maybe higher, but that’s when you got bored when you were with me. You know all your letters, sounds, shapes, colors and are already learning sight words and how to sound out words. And Daddy and I have never pushed you to do any of those things. You push yourself because you love learning. My boy, that was me so many years ago. And I loved school and learning so much, that I never left. From the time I was 10 years old, I knew I was going to be a teacher. When I was 16, I picked my subject – music. And I’ve been in school ever since. 37 years and counting. I really hope when you get there, you love school as much as I did. I know how much you love learning, so really I hope that school loves you.
Your shyness. When I ask you to say thank you to the cashier at the store and you grunt, I feel it in my soul. Or when I ask you to say hello to your great-uncle who you have not seen in a year and you hide behind my leg, I feel that too, my son. Because that wasn’t just four-year-old me, that is still 41-year-old me. I know you may never be comfortable talking to people outside of your circle, God knows I’m not, but I do hope to teach you how to be polite and kind to strangers, even if it feels a little peculiar. It lets people into your circle. More importantly, it warms your heart, and theirs.
Always remember how strong you are, even when you don’t feel it. I love the saying, “Fight like a preemie.” You fought, Sweet Boy. I believe in my heart that even in the womb, you knew the options were: join us early and fight or join your Grampa Jimmy in Heaven. You chose to fight. And in these first five years, you’ve had some health issues that are more prevalent in preemies. You’ve dealt with asthma and acid reflux, but you are so close to growing out of all of that. You had a cleft in your larynx. That’s a pretty big deal, but you learned to accommodate your eating and drinking habits to live a healthy life. Most kids with your size cleft need a feeding tube. You learned how to pace yourself before we even realized you had the cleft. Three surgeries later you are all fixed. You are so incredibly strong. Remember that.
Most importantly my Sweet Boy, remember that I always love you. You may not like it when I turn off the iPad, or say no to a second cookie, or make you clean your room. But I do those things because I love you. And I always will. Happy Fifth Birthday, Sweet Boy
Love always and forever,
Mommy
Photo by Will Clayton 