You didn’t want to come out early. You wanted to stay in until the very last minute, making everyone wait until you were good and ready. But, because you were getting so big, I asked the doctors to have you come a week early. They agreed, and when they called me in for induction you were out 9 hours later carrying 9 pounds and 4 ounces of pure trouble. You’ve been in competition with your brother ever since.
I was worried that I wouldn’t know how to love two children. I loved your brother so much that I thought there wouldn’t be enough for you. I didn’t understand until you were born that a mother’s love is endless, or, as you would say, it goes for infinity. How could I have ever worried about not having enough love for you? I defy anyone to look into your eyes and not immediately fall in love. And, if by some miracle they can resist your eyes, your full-belly laugh and mischievous smile will do the trick.
You were the model of a perfect baby. You rarely cried, you ate like a champ, you took long naps in your crib with little effort on my part. You sure knew how to take care of a mother with a two year old. It's as if you could sense what I needed, and wanted to do your part to help out around the house. And, ever since then, you've been a willing helper and are proud of your accomplishments and of jobs well done.
Your intelligence was evident early on. You were having full conversations when most kids were still drooling and babbling. You have an astounding memory, recalling tiny details of things that I barely recall experiencing. You love to learn, but also believe that you already know everything, and hate to be wrong. I do believe that you are most likely a genius, but dumb yourself down for the sake of the rest of us.
Like your brother, it takes you a while to warm up to people. But with you, it is less shyness and more independence. You like to be in charge. You like to check out a situation and have a handle on things before you decide if you want to get involved. And you like to run the show. For you, compromise is rarely an option. You can be a loner, but you are perfectly fine with that and sometimes, in fact, need that alone time to refresh yourself or you get very, very cranky.
You adore animals and have a special connection to them; they seem to be drawn to you wherever we go. At the zoo, animals ignore others until you approach the habitats. They sense you and approach you to the delight of everyone around.
You are a ball of fire and energy. You attack any challenge with determination and perseverance. But, you still can be mommy’s little boy and you are not too tough to ask for help or to run to me for a hug when you get hurt.
Your best friends are your brother and your dad and your dog. You love wrestling and playing board games. Your social circle is expanding and I can see in you a loyal friend. You don’t need me to stay for “one more minute” when I drop you off at pre-school anymore. Instead, I can “go now.” And I am happy to go, but I long to stay for one more minute.
To my second born, the boy who climbed into my heart and taught me my love is unending, whose hugs I crave and eyes make me melt, I wish you a very happy fifth birthday.