Wednesday, January 20, 2016

To my son on his 5th birthday

Thomas James-

I can't believe you are five years old. You went to sleep as my sweet little four year old child and woke up my handsome five year old boy! Sometimes I find myself just stopping and thinking, "I have a five year old son. WHAT? A FIVE year old. HOW? WHEN?" It used to drive me nuts when people would same time flies, but then I had you. And boy, has it flown. A few days before your birthday, I said, "Tommy, I can't BELIEVE you're going to be five! What am I going to do with a five year old?" You said, "Don't worry mom! I'll still give you hugs and kisses!" And I cried.

You are turning into such a little man. I love it and hate it all at the same time. You say things that make me laugh almost every day. You've become much more responsible and helpful around the house. You're still a ridiculously picky eater, but you come by that honestly (mom's the same way!). You would eat a ham sandwich every day for lunch and dinner if we'd let you. You love your little sister but pick on her like nobody's business. You two are either hugging or punching each other--it's always from one extreme to the next!

You do NOT like me to do your hair. And every morning I tell you I need to fix it, you roll your eyes and say, "Fine. But DON'T make it a mohawk!" You're still shy around others and at school, but are making progress and being much friendlier! I'm SO happy about that--you're such a sweet boy and I feel like you have so much to offer people, but you're always so shy, so I'm glad you're finding your voice (which has certainly NEVER been an issue at home ;). You've started telling random people at stores hi and waving at everyone you see.

You are obsessed with our chickens and there's one chicken you always pick up and hold like a baby. And oddly enough, that chicken seems to love it.

You LOVE being outside and always, always ask to go with dad. Even if he's just going outside for a few seconds, you beg to go with him. You help him gather eggs and work in the barn. You recently got to go on your first big "hunt" and you guys got a few birds!

You are 100% boy--except for when it comes to getting hurt.You love dirt, trucks, remote control ANYTHING and talking about poop, farts and butts more than any human I know. But when you get hurt (and I'm sorry to say this), you are the BIGGEST wimp. If you get a splinter in your foot, you limp all day. If you bonk your head, you need ice EVERY time. If you pinch your finger, you insist on a band aid. I pray often for your safety and our sanity.

While you thoroughly enjoy doing "manly stuff," you also like cuddling with mom and reading books together. You've just started complaining about going to the store with me--you used to love it, but now you say, "Awwwww, man! I HATE the store!" You're grounded from your tablet at least 3 days a week because you're pretty mouthy, but we're working on that. I affectionately call you my little sour patch kid because you can go from SUPER sweet to SUPER sour in 30 seconds flat.

A few things you say that crack me up are:
"That is not wepropriate!"--meaning that's not appropriate
"Don't look at my privacy!"--meaning you're naked and don't want anyone to see your private parts
"Really?"--in a totally sarcastic voice, meaning in adult language, "Are you freakin' kidding me?"
 "________ is so disgusting, I can't even blink!"-- You're constantly talking about things you dislike so much                    they make you blink

Son, you can make me happier than anyone and drive me crazier than anyone else can in the whole world. My love for you is so strong, I can't even blink! Your sweet smiles, your sweaty hugs, your crocodile tears...all of it is wrapped up in the most perfect 42 pound, 3 1/2 foot tall blond haired bundle. I can't imagine life without you. I love you buddy!

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