Dear Nolan,
I am writing this for your 5th birthday. You can’t understand why five is so hard for me. Five is the end of preschool and the beginning of a whole new part of your life. You are growing up before my eyes and there are just some things I want to record before the moments slip past.
I love to hear your little raspy, baby-man voice in the morning, requesting either “Panny-cakes,” or “Cim-a-nem Superman” (known as Cinnamon Life to the uninitiated).
I love that you figured out in the fall that working on “Z” at school would mean we were almost to Summer Vacation.
I love the way you fall asleep in your carseat…arms up, hands linked behind your neck, ankles crossed…just the way you have since you were about a year old…and all because you still insist you don’t need a nap.
I love that you talk…all the time…and that you are SO very observant and analytical. From just this week…
* “Mom, Mrs. Debbie said, ‘No.’” Me, “No, to what?” You, “I asked her if we could just NOT eat her snacks and the kids could bring all the snacks. She said, ‘No,’ because we would just bring candy.” I suspect this was on a day that you were served veggies…and I suspect that you told her, as you tell everyone, that carrots make you “puke.”
* Looking at your zoo magazine… “Mom, look. They have porks at the zoo.” Me, “What are porks?” You, “Porks are a type of pig and they have red hair all over and they are very wild.”
* “Mom, is there a Wall*E ride at Six Flags?” Me, “I don’t know. I don’t think so.” You, “Oh, it must be at Seven Flags.”
(Incidentally, I hate that you are now calling me ‘Mom’ instead of ‘Mommy.’)
* Daddy, “Why do you like the Angels? Is it because they have a cool halo on their ‘A?’ You, “No.” Daddy, “Is it because you like their stadium?” You, “No.” Daddy, “Well, then why are they your favorite?” You, “Because Jesus has angels.”
I love that you love to be outside, to blow bubbles, ride your scooter, tend to your ladybugs (and instruct them on earthquake preparedness), talk to the neighbor children through the fence, and curl up like a cat in a sunny spot. I love that you brown like a sugar cookie…and your little, ahem, cheeks stay so white.
I love that you now like to differentiate for us whether you have a “question“…or a “statement“…or “a question and a statement“…or “two questions, but one might be a statement.”
I love that you still love your bath…have since you were a newborn in the hospital. I am completely amused and charmed by the way you tell me that your day will only be complete if you can have two bath toys instead of one.
I love that you cannot decide if you want to be a “Kung-Foo Teacher” or a “Helicopter Pilot” when you grow up. When I suggest you could be both, you agree, “Yes, if I am a good ninja, maybe I could have a helicopter for my mo-bile.”
I love the way your little head sweats right after you fall asleep…like you are letting of all the pressure of your day.
There are so many ways you have changed our family and so many precious memories that are becoming more and more difficult to recall. So, today, I just want to write down a few…in the vain hope that I can somehow slow this moment.
You are my precious, precocious joy. My darling little boy. My pint-sized superhero. Happy Birthday. I love you.
Mommy
