I can't believe it's already time to write another birthday post. This year has flown by and yet at the same time, you're so different than the boy I wrote about last year. You're so much more comfortable in your world. You own your spirit and do what you want to do on your own time frame. This can be fantastic, especially as I watch you among your friend finding what makes you happy and not worrying too much about what others are doing. It can also be maddening when you refuse to listen to my requests or insist on finishing whatever you're doing before you can suddenly hear my "mom voice."
You continue to love to learn. This delights me. Your questions are constant and still unexpected. I love seeing the world through your eyes as you work out the details by asking all of the whys and hows, and I puzzle over the things that you dwell on. Right now it's the fact that your dad and I have both been stung by bees at some point in our lives. I'm still being peppered with questions, seemingly out of nowhere, as you work through this in your head. I'm not sure what answer will finally let you set this concept aside, but if the past is any indication, you'll get it and the questions will cease until another topic becomes a little obsession.
This year hasn't all been sweet and easy. I've been treated to tantrums and meltdowns. I've had glimpses of the lippy teen you're so likely to become (though I thought I'd have more time before that started!) I've watched your relationship with Little Dog become both more sweet and more brutal as you two navigate the intricate communications between brothers with both words and, in my opinion too frequently, fists! At times I'm not sure you'll both survive, and if you don't kill each other, the constant butting of heads might push me over the edge. But just when I think I've seen the last of my sweet child, you climb into my lap for a snuggle or tell me you need a hug or give me one of your "I ♥ mama" notes and I know you're still the gentle soul you've always been.
Sometimes I see so much of myself in you. Some simple, like your love of animals, especially dogs. Some more challenging, like your quick frustration with the things that don't come easily to you, because so many things do. Other times you are your father in miniature. Your gait, your expressions and your easy humor all remind me so much of him. And even as you reflect both of us, there is so much of you that is all your own. Unique, special and wonderfully complex.
You are gentle, but not meek. You are bossy and hate to admit it. And for a child who so readily adapts to change, you can be so reticent in some new situations while being so confident in others. This summer stands out in my mind. You dove right into the new daily routine with children you didn't know, made friends, loved the program and experience but were frightened to tears when Friday mornings rolled around and your days began in a different classroom. I can't seem to understand what makes one environment so easy to conquer and another an insurmountable challenge. Only you know, but I will continue to be there to help smooth those adjustments.
You continue to amaze and enchant me. I'm so proud of you and most of all, I love you.
Happy birthday, Big Dog.
Pasta ala Fridge
5 years ago