Dear Little One,
Happy 6th Birthday!
Doesn’t it seem like just yesterday that you were born? Maybe you don’t remember … but I sure do! And yet somehow my tiny little baby turned into the gangly 6-year-old boy I see today.
I have to tell you, you’re a mass of contradictions these days. Allow me to explain.
- You constantly tell me how you want to do things “all by myself “… yet you still call me to wipe your bottom after a poop. (Could you work on this a little harder? It is getting really old.)
- You’ve begun to adopt the mannerisms of a disinterested and bored teenager … yet you are seemingly incapable of understanding sarcasm. (In my mind, the two should go hand in hand.)
- You are maddeningly technical and logical and smart about so much (Me: “We’ll do that in a couple of minutes.” You: “You mean two minutes, correct?”)…yet you really believe that your Toy Story toys are moving by themselves. (Hint: Isn’t it funny how they only move when I’m left alone in the room with them and you hide in the closet but they don’t move when I hide in the closet with you? Think about it.)
- You insist that you can pick out and coordinate your own clothes…yet there is no planet on which a bright orange t-shirt, bright red shorts, black socks, and brown sneakers look good together.
Yet even with your mind-boggling ability to generate dangerous levels of noise pollution, your refusal to eat any kind of meat other than precooked frozen chicken nuggets or fish sticks and your misguided belief that you have a God-given right to play all day long, I’m more amazed, delighted, amused, impressed and astounded by you every day. Why, just this afternoon, your little song and dance routine about karate had me in stitches. (But, as usual, you got a laugh and overdid things by doing it over and over and over and over again. Remember what Daddy told you — it is only funny the first three times?)
Keep up the good work! You’re the light of my life, and I’m so excited to see the amazing and super cool person you are becoming. (But seriously, I so wish you had volume control or a mute switch.)
Mommy (though sadly you’ve started calling me Mom in front of your friends. Sniff!)
P.S. I’m working my butt off to give you a really fun birthday party tomorrow, but I did decide to splurge on a fancy store-bought cake. After all, we don’t want a repeat of this horror show from last year.