Stop, Drop and Blog

BigBrother,

Today you are five. Five. That’s one whole hand. Or one whole foot. Whichever you prefer. You have cute feet. And hands. You always have. Those chubby little fingers gripping mine so soon after you were born. Those short, wide feet that I would nom-nom-nom for hours. They’ve kind of thinned out. Like you. That recent growth spurt caught me off guard.

You catch me off guard.

Oh, BigBrother, I am just so overwhelmed with this birthday. Five.

I am amazed by you. Your spirit is so big. It’s kind of hard to contain at times. You have this contagious energy, this amazing, full-of-awe, crazy/beautiful, live-life-to-its-fullest kind of love for everything around you. I wish I could bottle it and use it for myself. Or feed it back to you when you’re a sullen teenager. Or just open it when you’re big and grown and off living your own life so I can take a whiff and remember who you were — who you are right now.

In the past year you have learned so much. You are writing and drawing and, oh, my boy, you are reading. It’s not perfect yet. But the enthusiasm in your voice when you sound out a word and it clicks and you look at me with that face full of wonder for what you have just accomplished… oh, Buddy, it’s so beautiful.

You started out this year not knowing a thing about soccer. You ran toward the wrong net repeatedly. By this fall, when outdoor soccer season rolled around, you were King of the Field. You scored two goals and assisted with another. You were so proud. I was so proud. Not because of the goals. Or the understanding of which net was the net you should run toward. Or anything about sports. It was, once again, about that look on your face. That joy. I hope — so very much — that you continue to have that joy in your life.

You’ve made so much progress this year. With little things like walking up the steps like everyone else. And mastering the “L” sound. And, dude, you are tearing up that computer. I can’t even begin to tell you how proud I am that you not only try new foods now but you don’t gag. Most of the time. And you touch Play-dough. Big steps. You now tell knock-knock jokes. Kind of repeatedly, but that’s okay. And earlier this week you cleaned your room without being asked and without whining. You’re just changing so fast and so quickly.

This birthday is hitting me kind of hard. Four was easy. Five just sounds old. So much is waiting for you this year. Kindergarten! You’re already so excited. You have loved preschool so much, and I hope you are able to find your way in a new school just as you did when you started preschool. You love to learn and you thrive in a setting with other children. I hope that continues.

You are now a “little boy.” You have lost those toddler cheeks. Your face is longer and leaner and stronger. I miss your cheeks. I love your little boy look, I do, but oh… I miss the cheeky-cheeks.

Oh, BigBrother, I don’t know how you went from this…

to this…

But I am so glad to have been your Mommy through all of it. You are my favorite five year old. You are my favorite Nicholas. Thank you for the “five year old kisses” this morning.

I look forward to another 525,600 minutes with you this year. And twice — if not three or four or ten times — as many more kisses.

Love you and Happy Birthday,
Mommy (and Daddy)