Tomorrow you turn 7 years old! It’s pretty remarkable how much you have grown – physically, intellectually and emotionally – in the past year.
There have been so many milestones, like being able to read books all by yourself and do math and tell time and and ride a two-wheeler. You got your first visit (four altogether!) from the Tooth Fairy and your first solid belts in karate. You learned how to make phone calls on your own and finally figured out how to operate that pesky remote control. You even had a girlfriend (or two) this past year!
There have also been moments Mommy had to see herself to believe, like the other morning, when I came downstairs to find that you were helping your sister with her breakfast, even though no one asked you to do so. You made sure she got her milk, and when I walked into the kitchen, you were standing there with the bag of Mimi’s beloved frozen “pankins” and said there were only two left, a concerned expression on your face.
You didn’t call upstairs for help. You didn’t just ignore her. As the big brother, the stereotypical firstborn, you took initiative and responsibility and wanted to help your little sister. It may seem small to you, but believe me, it was a huge leap forward.
And there was Thursday morning, when Mommy did not do a good job at budgeting our time and we missed the school bus by about 30 seconds.You took note and saw I was stressing out, but rather than ignoring me (or asking if this meant you could watch more TV), you looked at me and said solemnly, “I’m so sorry I made us miss the bus,” which made me want to cry because (a) it wasn’t your fault, and (b) it was such a sensitive and grown-up thing to do.
This past year also revealed something else: You and I are quite alike, my boy. This makes you smile and you like to think it’s because we both like bananas and M&Ms and reading magazines in bed (although yours is usually a Lego catalog) and watching shows like “House Hunters” …. kind of like we’re members of an exclusive club.
But trust me when I say we have other similarities. Like how we’re both pretty stubborn. And moody. And dramatic. Because of this, we tend to butt heads, and I hate it when this happens. But know I’m trying to be more patient and more flexible. So bear with your old Mommy. I promise I’ll get there.
Thankfully, you are still very much your Daddy’s son, from your little ears to your outgoing, “Mr. Mayor” personality to your love of books and reading to your interest in everything science and technology. I love watching the two of you play catch in the backyard or catching a glimpse of my boys snuggling in bed, surrounded by a dozen “Star Wars” and dinosaurs books, as you read “The Cat in the Hat” to Daddy.
I thought age six was a pretty amazing year but I have a feeling age seven is going to blow that out of the water. Why? Because seven is kind of like the best of both worlds. On one hand, you’re this wildly smart and curious big boy who craves independence, is eager to learn, is capable of taking on more responsibility and can comprehend some pretty complicated topics that allows us to have some incredible (and meaningful) conversations.
But from time to time, I still get regular glimpses of that tow-headed little boy who needs his blue Papi bear at bedtime, likes to cuddle in bed with us in the morning, comes crying to me when he has a boo-boo and secretly enjoys watching “Sesame Street” with his little sister.
As I like to remind you both on your birthdays, you and your sister continue to fill my world with laughter, happiness and pure joy, and becoming your Mommy is the most important thing I have done — or ever will do — in this life.
I hope you have a wonderful 7th birthday, my sweet boy. Daddy, Mimi and I love you so much and are so proud of you.