My little prince,
Today you are six. You are full of energy and excitement, and your little face (which everyone tells me mirrors my own) is so expressive that I want to kiss your round cheeks every time I see you.
Right now, you let me.
Right now, you say, "Mama, you're my honey girl."
Right now, you still curl up next to me in the mornings, even before I open my eyes, and say, "Hi Mama, I love you. Will you snuggle me?"
Right now, you are fiercely loyal and loving, and I am incredibly lucky to see shades of the man you will become when you grow up: respectful, kind, and gentle.
You have your wild times too - you like to run around shrieking with laughter, and you want so much to keep up with your big sister. You have become a daredevil in the pool, and you vacillate between being my baby and a true little boy. You trotted off to camp for the first time and made new friends. You rode the current at the beach and your first roller coaster. You've grown so skinny and tall, and you will start first grade this fall. And even though I know you are growing up, I hold the memory of the first time I ever saw you so close to my heart.
When I was pregnant with you, I had a little scare and I wanted to make sure you were all right. It was very early in my pregnancy, and I went to the doctor alone because your Daddy, Nanny and Papa were all away. I was nervous, but I thought to myself, "Okay, it's just you and me, kid. Hang on," so I packed Emerson into the car and prayed all the way to the doctor's office. When your sweet big sister (who was only 3) asked the ultrasound technician if her screen could play Dora cartoons, my worried face broke into a smile, and knew I had to be strong for both of you, no matter what. So I took a breath, said another prayer, and hoped you'd be in there. And suddenly there was a small scribble of your heartbeat, and I knew you were there, and you were mine.
You and me, kid. You completed our family and made my dreams come true. You and your sister are the greatest gifts I've ever known.
Happy sixth birthday, my sweet son.