On Fred turning five

Dear Fred,

Today you turn five.  Yes, five.  Some moms might write a long letter filled with memories and loving sentiments.  Some moms might pull out volumes of pictures neatly displayed on ornate pages that they toiled over for hours, which chronicle each moment of the past five years.  Some moms might even throw a huge party and buy a huge cake.  You didn't get that mom.  Sorry, Kid.

Why can't they stay so tiny?

What I will do is tell you that I love you.  I will tell you that I remember the moment I first saw you and thought you had funny looking toes and beautiful eyes surrounded by long, wonderful eye lashes.  I remember being so proud that we made it through those few days in the hospital, and how gracious you were when your two year old sister held you for the first time.  I remember being in awe of this little boy and telling Daddy that potty training this one was all him.  I remember being relieved that I only had to deal with teaching about make up and periods one time instead of two.  I remember the first clear sounds you made after you got the tubes in your ears.

I remember the first time your sister made you laugh, and resenting the fact that she did it with such ease and yet you would hardly crack a smile for me.  I remember watching your sister dote on you at Easter and pile plastic eggs around you in your bouncy chair, and how you laughed at her and kicked and bounced most of he eggs out of the chair.  I remember Daddy's smile when you fell asleep on his shoulder, which was one of your favorite places to slumber.

I remember so many things from the last five years that the time seems a blur.  Today, your sister is your favorite person, cars and trucks are your favorite toys, and you have a strong will that I wouldn't want to come across in a dark alley.  You are imaginative, creative, and Daddy and I hope you'll be left handed like us and want to be a pro baseball pitcher.  Just sayin'.

Is that hair gel?

I love the way you laugh when I tickle you, and the way you laugh when your sister makes a silly face.  I love your little hand patting me on the back, and I love your voice when you tell me I'm pretty.  I love the way you stammer and stutter when you're so excited to tell me something, and the passion with which you tell me those things.

We've had countless sleepless nights, and our share of doctor visits.  You've dealt with the ear infections your Mommy passed down to you, the tubes to fix them, and you still tell me you love me.  You had your thumb fixed from crooked to straight and I'm always thrilled when you give me a thumbs up. 

There wasn't a more handsome one year old

You are a force to be reckoned with, and the ladies better beware.  You are a charming young man with long eye lashes and blonde hair.  I love your enthusiasm for everything you do, and hope that your charm works well for you in school. 

The first lost tooth.

Thank you, Fred, for all that you have taught me, and for all the challenges you continue to present me with.  You brighten my days, even the ones you start at 4AM.  Or earlier.  OK, maybe not those days.  Still.  You make me laugh, you make me cry (seriously, forget the word "no"!!), but most of all, you make me happy.  You make me happy to be your Mommy, to have a wonderful son like you who is so excited to live every day and show Mommy how to live full steam ahead, never look back, and have no regrets.

 I love your kisses and hugs, and the way you say, "I love you".  I love the passion you have for the things you love, and the things you really.don't.love.

You are five now, Fred, whether Mommy likes it or not.  There is so much more I could write, but I fear that the internet is not the fad I thought it would be, and you'll come across this when you're a teenager.  By that time, memories of your stinky poops and farts, your temper tantrums, your revelations about all things obvious, and your love for your Mommy will be only a source of embarrassment. 

In conclusion, Fred, happy fifth.  May you enjoy every year with as much zest as you have these first five.  Minus the tantrums, ear infections, and croup.  And early mornings.  And....aw, forget it.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, FRED!!

On the eve of 5