When I had a baby, I never, ever envisioned having a five-year-old. Not in my wildest dreams. And now, with a blink of an eye. Here you are. A big boy. I am so proud of you, so entertained by you, and so in love with you.
You have made such milestones this year: You’ve learned how to ride a bike, you’ve started to read, you can swim a lap in a pool, and can sing opera unlike any other child I know. The latter being both so sweet and sooo loud.
You have obsessions: Playmobil, Legos, pirates, Chima, spies. Keeping your brother out of your “toy-closet.” And instructions. You love an instruction manual. Just like your daddy.
And today, you are five. You’re going to go to kindergarten and discover the wonders of the world. Or at least elementary school. I’m going to have to be brave and send you off on the yellow school bus. Trust me, I’ll be more nervous than you will be on that day. But I’m so happy for you. I know that you will love school.
Just promise to never forget: I’m your momma, and it will always be cool to sing “I love you Mommy!” in an intense vibrato and finish with a grand finale of several thrown air kisses. That’s the kind of thing that never goes out of style. I promise.
Happy birthday to the sweetest five-year-old I’ve never known.