Happy 5th birthday Bug!

Dear Bug,

Happy 5th birthday. I am late, as usual, in writing you a letter, but I try, I really do. I have good intentions, I really do, but then life tends to get in the way of writing more often than not.

Time flies. Even though it should be obvious when I pick you up and stagger under your weight and your long, long legs, I still have a hard time reconciling your 5 year old self with my tiny little baby Bug.

I remember when we found out we were pregnant with you, after only one try. I was convinced that we’d be trying for a long time, based on other people’s experiences. We were so shocked and so thrilled. And then… so terrified. Suddenly, the reality of having a baby set in, and everything changed. Literally overnight, just like that, our priorities and mindsets changed forever. We were excited and scared shitless.

When you were born, though, you showed us the way most of the time. You were born looking like a wise old man, and lucky for us, you acted wise most of the time as well. Except when you had gas, which for awhile there, you had plenty of. The kind that made you writhe, kick and scream. There were about 4 weeks that I thought I’d collapse from exhaustion trying to help you through the gas pain that seemed never ending. It was hard and emotionally draining for us, and it must have been awful for you.

But, we made it through that, and even managed to get a rhythm and find a routine. And outside of the gas, you were such a happy baby. I admit, I did read baby and parenting books voraciously, but we got into a groove, and in no small part thanks to you.

I went back to work when you were four months old, and THAT my love was the hardest thing I’d ever had to do in my life, at that point. I didn’t want to do it, dreaded taking you to daycare for weeks and weeks leading up to it. The first day, I cried all the way out the door, and all the way to work. Sounds crazy, I know and believe me, if we could have swung it financially, I’d have given up my career in a heartbeat to stay home with you. That wasn’t something I’d foreseen or expected. I always thought I naturally be a career balancing mom. But there it was. Leaving you each morning, 4 mornings a week, even knowing I’d see you just a few hours later to nurse you, was painful for me. For you, though, it was no big deal. You were so good, and rarely seemed to care when I walked out the door. I guess it was like one big playtime for you, complete with other babies to coo at

Your first year was pretty easy, in hindsight. You were happy and easygoing, chatty and inquisitive (think “is dat?” over and over and over...). And you were still not walking at the one year mark, which was nice because once you did start at 15 months, you were downright exhausting.

As you grew, you became a big brother, became an animal lover, and continued to focus on talking. "Is dat" was replaced with "why?" You were still pretty much easy going, though, although you rarely played alone, preferring the company of us in most everything you did. There was no playing by yourself is what I mean to say. Oh, sure, you hit all the standard milestones of independence seeking, and temper tantrums and all that. But mostly, you could be coaxed, and at worst, your tantrums were short lived. You were just a happy guy with lot’s to say, that pretty much sums your toddlerhood up.

In the past year, your fifth year, you’ve really grown up. You come home from Kindergarten talking about number sets, native americans (pronounced night-of-americans by you), pioneers, and cumulus clouds; and it floors me that you could already be learning about that kind of stuff. You are intensely interested in learning every little detail about every topic that sparks your interest. Which happens to be many topics.

You’re all about pirates and dinosaurs, animals, castles and knights, bugs and horses. When you grow up, you want to be so many things: farmer, worker man, bug scientist, circus horse rider (?!?), zoo keeper, pirate, fire fighter, musician… it varies day to day, but you almost always have at least 3 jobs you want to do at any given time.

You love to build things with your new block set - garages, castles, jails for “bad guys”, horse stables, school’s. Your imagination has blossomed, and not only do you play the endless imaginary games, but you often provide a running narrative for anyone interested (or not) in listening. And more and more, you will play alone and behind a closed door. Which I have to admit, is kind of nice for us.

You love gymnastics, karate, sort of like soccer; and you love to play games like tag, and hide and seek. You love your pets, in fact you constantly want MORE pets, and you recently cried despairingly when your fish Dory died. In fact, animals are your softest spot and I love that. I’ve encouraged it, in fact, but I believe you’d have loved animals even without my encouragement.

Even if I sometimes think you never stop, I love the way you talk. You talk confidently and eagerly, like you're afraid you won't have enough time to say all you want to say. And although you mostly talk like a bigger kid now, you still have a few mis-pronunciations and idiosyncrasies that I love. Like the way you pronounce Cocoon “Caa-coon” (“Mommy, can you make me in a caa-coon on the couch?”) and preface forgot with “bu” every time (“You bu-forgot to play that game with me after school!) I also love how you sing, especially a song you learned at school this summer called “I can sing a rainbow”. You always insist on singing it all the way through two times, because that is the “right way”.

I love how you say “You know what? I LOVE you Mommy” and hug me tight. I’ll never get tired of hearing that. And how you say “gooder”. You once told me that the Aveda salon we went into to get some hair phomolient (or some such thing) smelled much gooder than our house and oh, how you wished our house could smell like it. And you also once said the gymnastics center smelled gooder than our home, which I still can’t figure out because I think that place smells like a wet dog. I’m pretty sure our house smells normal, good even, but I’m starting to get a complex.

We had a Horse themed party for you this year, because you are crazy about horses. We decorated treat bags and had an obstacle course on stick horses, which you and your 12 friends enjoyed. A few of you didn’t get that it wasn’t a RACE, and got very upset when you fell behind. But other than that, the party was a big hit.

Originally, you wanted a Pink Poodle in Paris themed party… and I was all set to oblige, if you hadn’t changed your mind. I love that you don’t care yet about gender differences, even if I know that eventually you will be influenced by others on that, no matter what I try to instill. For now, you are accepting of anything and anybody, and you have a such a huge heart. You are kind and generous and polite, most all the time.

I cannot imagine life without you, sweet boy, I wouldn't even want to try.

Happy 5th Birthday, Bug. I love you to infinity.