Today I watched while my oldest excitedly waited for the garbage truck to arrive. You’d have thought that it was Christmas morning, but no, it was his fourth birthday. What a present:)
Hours later, I watched as he stoically withstood the pain of a few vaccines, tears welling up but not escaping from his beautiful blue eyes. Trying to be the tough guy for the promise of a chocolate donut.
This evening I witnessed the sheer joy of a child, my child, opening presents. Tearing open wrapping paper to find gifts selected to match his truck obsessed interests…without filling my house with more large construction toys.
In the past 12+ hours, we’ve gone through the full gamut of emotions…both of us. Me, because I’m sad and happy and excited to see my little man grow up. Him, because while he’s growing up, he’s still a little kid, processing emotions is a complex thing to do.
I can’t believe I have a four year old. As cliche as it is to say, this time flew. Happy birthday, kiddo. Thanks for the smiles, the endless requests for hugs when I’m putting you to bed. And thanks, most of all, for making me a mom.