You smiled early. You were less than a month old when I fell in love with those dimples. Your first word was Dada. You loved to feed Dean from your high chair. You walked early, at about 10 months. You took your first steps in our den on a post-call morning. You walked four steps from your daddy to me and then spent the rest of the day proud as a peacock with your new skill. You weaned yourself off breast and bottle early too, less than a year old. You just didn't like being a baby. You were uncomfortable in your body until you learned how to make it move the way you wanted and then you were delighted. With everything. Sirens, airplanes, tickles, Dean dog, making me smile...it all amused you uncontrollably and it showed on your face.
You didn't like the party hats.
Tomorrow is Monday, the 28th. It will seem mostly like an ordinary day to you. I've taken the day off and will spend it totally with you doing whatever you want but the beauty of my first born is that you relish all moments as if they are all birthday-tastic. Your crystal blue eyes still get big and sparkle when there's talk of some form of sugar. You will talk and talk and talk to me about everything and nothing and sit close and hold my hand and offer to share your breakfast scone with me. You will ask if Caroline and Sam can come along and share in the fun. And you will mean it. You will ask me repeatedly, much like a demented old man, if you can watch old 1966 Batman episodes on the iPad and, since it's your birthday and I can rarely resist your smile when it's just us, I will give in. You will ask to pull a chair up to the stove and help me cook dinner and, despite how many times I tell you not to touch the batter, you will eat finger fulls until I finally strip you of your apron-hood and shoo you out of the kitchen. You will ask me to tell you the story of when I got trapped with the skunk in the camper no less than 10 times because it's your favorite and you love to hear stories. And at the end of the day, you will ask me to lay next to you and you will tell me that you had a great day and that you love me and you hope I have sweet dreams because you tell me that almost every night.
Four years. In a flash.
Happy birthday, my dear son. May your birthdays forever be this full of love, friendship, and magic.
I love you with all my heart.
Mommy
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