To The Most Awesome Little Man I Know,

Seven years ago, I was scared out of my mind. After all, I didn’t know how to handle having a boy! You were so tiny then, like a little football. I couldn’t put you down, even for a second. We would spend those first months of being home alone alternating between feeding you and napping on the couch, your head nestled right under my neck. You always smelled like you’d just had a bath. I could have spent forever like that.

I remember when I took you in for your first check up. “My son has an appointment today.” My son. It was the first time I’d said it out loud, and it fit like I had been saying it my whole life. You were my responsibility, I had a whole world to show you, and you ate it up almost as fast as you drank your bottles.

When I watch you now, I’m amazed that you were ever that small. I can barely lift you up to hug you, let alone cradle you around like a football. But you still will crawl up on me when I’m on the couch and nestle your head right underneath mine “Is this how we used to do it when I was a baby, Mommy?” I stroke your hair and try not to cry. “Yes, CJ, this is exactly how we did it when you were a baby.”

Kindergarten was tough for me. You weren’t my little baby anymore. You were upgraded to little man. It hurt my heart to watch you go, but the excitement in your voice when you read your first book all by yourself made up for that. And the day that you decided that you didn’t need me to walk with you to your classroom anymore was like cutting off one of my limbs and watching it walk away from me. I cried in the car that day. For a very selfish reason. I was having a hard time letting you go.

But for every moment it hurts me to watch you grow up, I get ten thousand more that make my heart feel like it’s going to burst from pride. Like the way that you are the first one to offer up a word of encouragement when one of your friends can’t do something. And I laugh at the way you are the “Language Police” in our house. Sometimes it’s as if I have a grown man living in a seven-year-old body.

You are caring, compassionate, strong, independent, loving, and you are mine. I hope none of these things change as you continue to grow. But I know one never will. You will always be My Son. And that is worth more than anything in the whole world.

I love you and Happy Birthday!

Mommy