My sweet peanut, this is your day. You have patiently waited 364 days to get here. You have told Biggie and I every day that “Ugh, it is takin fovea to be six.” You finally made it. We have spent so much time talking about your party (gymnastics, obvi) and who will go. And you say it so gently “Mom, do I still have fwiends? Because, mom, I go to a new school now.” (you know, like in case I was not aware). We have talked extensively about what snacks will be served at this glorious event (pretzels, apple sauce and cheese sticks). No one loves their birthday as much as you do.
Every year, every single year pee wee, I tell you, Biggie started our family, and you completed it. And still, even in this last year, with so much that has changed, that still remains the same. You complete our mini-tripod. When my heart broke, it is as though you both took one piece and put it back together.
You are our old soul. Just so sweet and kind in spirit. When I remind you all the time to tell me that I am a beautiful princess, you say “But momma, where is your crown hat?” When I tell you that I lost it, or left it at work, you say “Oh momma, I will get you one den.”
You love with your full heart. Every day when I pick you up, you run into my arms, and we race to the car (you somehow win every day) and then we hold hands. Every day.
Every night, when we put you to bed, you ask for brother and I to sleep in your room, not because you are scared, or want a sleep over, but because you “don’t like to be away from us too long.”
Every morning, when I lay in bed with you, you say “Momma, you seep in my bed all night, we so cozy.” Then you suck on your boo boo. I could do without that part.
You are our creature of habit. Same breakfast every morning (banana muffins, apple slices and “cold lellow apple juice”). Same lunch every day (cheese and square “quackers” fruit, gummies). And every night when we get home, you need to relax for a minute with a “cow milk.” You are such a creature of habit, that when we went to Disney this year, you and I rode Dumbo. 14 times in a row.
You LOVE helping. I was painting a cabinet for your play room last week, when you asked if you could help. You sat down with me in the driveway and after painting for a minute or two said “Momma, when do we go get coffee? Like workers do. They get coffee.”
You tattle. The other day, you said “Mom, daddy gives me somefin I yike to drink, and it is lellow.” To which I said “Apple juice?” And you said “No, soda, and daddy says no tellin mommy, so I didn’t.”
You love your brother SO much. I am so lucky to have these two boys, who are so different, yet so alike. You miss him when he is gone. And by “gone” I mean, when he goes poop, you go with him.
You are fresh. In fact, Biggie and I call you “baby fresh butt.” This weekend, you saw that I was walking around looking for something, and said “Momma, what you doing?” I told you that I was looking for Quinn’s blankie, to which you said “Oh, I frew that in da trash, hold my hand and I can take you to it.” So. Matter. Of. Fact.
You are so strong willed. If you don’t get what you want, you will say “Fine, den I goin to bed!” hashtag winning.
You are SO silly. This year, the Y had a “Doggy pool day” there must have been 25 dogs swimming in the pool, and you.
You are SO confident in who you are. Let me re-phrase that, you are so comfortable in who you are being naked. I never thought I would say things like “Dude, put your ding dong away.” so.very.much.
You think you are 25 years old. This summer, after seeing Biggie go tubing once in Maine, you decided that not only would you be doing that, but that you didn’t need an adult. Your papa and I spent a solid day worrying about it, when you just jumped on the tube from the dock and yelled “Hit it, and turn up the speed for dis guy.” True. Fucking. Story.
You amaze and scare me at the same time. You are so determined. You don’t give up when anyone else would have. And when you are working, you say “I got dis.”
Every day, I worry… Am I enough for you and Biggie? Can me, this one person, do this alone? Raise two boys. Alone. And every day, you both remind me, I can, because you do it with me. You have taught more in six short years than I can ever teach you. I have these times that in my heart, you and biggie have always been with me. I don’t remember a day that you were not there.
Biggie and I are so excited to celebrate six with you. Your favorite toys (guys) and your favorite food (pizza, circle kind, that “Da guy brings to da door.”). Happy six my sweet love.