(We’ve endured a series of curveballs, but I am determined to write this boy a birthday letter. We are going on four months now…)

A Birthday Letter

Dear Son,

Happy Birthday (ish). This birthday letter is long overdue. Five whole years you’ve been taking in air. You with the impossible grin and your daddy’s eyes peering up at me at 5 am. From the moment you exploded onto the scene, all red and squalling, you’ve been living your life at max capacity. It is difficult sometimes, to pry out the words that will encompass the whole of our love for you. They are never enough.When I see your little body moving with so much determination, when you tell me you can run faster by chopping the air, I think my heart will burst for the joy of being your mother.Here’s the thing about you, my son.

You are all in all the time. Your emotional volume is cranked up to earsplitting decibels. And while that makes for some difficult days, screaming meltdowns, and long minutes in the calm down chair, it also equates to irrepressible joy.And oh how I love to share in your joy. When you hit a baseball, you jog slow, waiting until the stitched leather rolls to the edge of the grass, then you pump your fists, shout, and take off running. You revel in snow, digging through drifts long after your siblings fold with exhaustion. You still cry out with glee at the sight of airplanes and helicopters. You love to lie in the hammock with me, drawing out shapes in the clouds.

You are my delight.

 I can almost feel my individual cells expanding to take the whole of it in-this sanctifying mess of motherhood. The meltdowns and the joy. The moments you climb into the pack and play with our Darling Girl and talk with her for an hour. The way you pretend with Second Son, your best friend, your shadow. The baseball games in rainstorms, the creek time adventures, and when you tell me that your brain is weird and that’s how you remember everything.And even when you veer between fighting furiously with your big sister and dissolving in a pile of laughter with her wrestling you on the floor.We are teaching you about grace, forgiveness, and self control but mostly how much you are loved. By Him, by us. You still need me to snuggle you, you still careen into the living room mid-pretending for a quick hug and I will carry the weight of you for the whole of my live-long life.Happy birthday my boy, my wee man. I will never, ever, stop loving you.

~M.