Five

Little C turned five today. Birthdays have always been hard for an emotional mama like me, but this one was a little more momentous than most. He's five. The age at which children go into kindergarten, the age at which he's no longer considered a toddler. He's a kid now, which is hard for me to wrap my brain around.

Raising any child is a bit of a roller coaster, and Little C has brought us a few dips that were scarier than others.

The thing about roller coasters, though? The drops are nerve-wracking, but the view from the top is pretty damned spectacular.

He is funny and vivacious; kind, loving, and demonstratively affectionate. He is smart and bubbly and makes a friend of anyone he meets. He has confronted mountains, dazzled them, and left them bewildered in his wake. He is mine, and I am so proud of him.


Happy birthday, sweet boy. If it's possible to be any prouder of the kid you've become, I can't imagine how.