So my little guy turns 4 today . . . I can hardly believe that all that time has passed in the blink of an eye (but I try to remember just how fast it goes when I am awake at 2:30 with Baby Girl!)
It was right around this time four years ago that my friend Jenn broke my water and the Boy made his precipitous descent into the world (and yes, before you ask, Jenn is an actual doctor who happens to be a really good friend -- I'm not in some kind of Do-it-Yourself Birth Club or anything!). I can remember every sound of the delivery room; every direction from the nurses and Jenn; every whisper of love and encouragement from my husband. What I can't remember is the pain. I know everyone says that, but it's true. From his first cries he has brought us an untold happiness that has surpassed any pain or fear or expectation of what another child would or would not add to our lives. The love just multiplied exponentially; I heard once that love is like a candle, it is undimmed even when other candles are lit from its flame. His little candle has made our home glow even more brightly.
He is his father's buddy, his partner on the testosterone raft in this sea of estrogen. He is my little love, the only one in the house who will still volunteer to do boring errands just to be with me. He is his sisters' comedian (and tormenter, at times). He is impish and serious, funny and somber, independent and shy. He wants nothing but to love and be loved (oh, and to amass the largest collection of Thomas the Tank Engine this side of the Mississippi). And for all this, everything that he is, we are entirely grateful.
Happy Birthday, Son -- I love you more than you'll ever know.