Happy Birthday, Dear Boy –

You turn 10 this weekend. Now, math is not my strong suit, but even I know that means that you are more than halfway to legal adulthood.  It means you will be learning to drive in just five short years, or just half again the time you have been on this Earth. Most surprisingly, it means I have managed to neither lose you nor break you for nearly an entire decade. 

I didn’t know how fast a decade could pass before I became a mom. 

I remember it all, though.  The 9,026 readings of Goodnight Moon.  The days spent on the floor playing with action figures and Legos. The diapers, the giggles, the finger paint, the sleepless nights.  I remember the first time you grasped a toy rattle in your tiny fingers – I was pretty certain you must be a baby genius. 

You don’t remember. The first years of your life, the years when you were my entire focus and vice versa – you don’t remember them. I know, because I’ve asked you: “Hey, remember that time we spent the whole day hiding from monsters in a fort made from bedsheets?” Blank stare. “Hey, remember when you met Mickey Mouse while actually dressed as Mickey Mouse, and he loved the white buttons I had sewn on your red shorts?” Nothing. “Remember when we would follow the landscapers all around town like a pair of stalkers, because you loved to watch them mow? Remember when you were convinced your baby sister would turn into a boy when she got older?” Nope and nope. 

Hopefully, at least, you remember the love. 

I’m pretty sure you do. I say this because you will still give me a cuddle every now and then, still let me hold your hand.  

I follow mommy bloggers, so I know there will come a last time for the cuddles and hand-holding.  I have been forewarned. But I don’t want to live in dread of the “lasts.”  I want just exactly a healthy enough dose of dread to make sure I remember to enjoy right now. 

And there is a lot to enjoy right now. In many ways, you are way more fun than you were during the baby years.  For instance, you are a much better Battleship opponent now than you were, say, 9 years ago.  Your taste in television has also improved greatly since the days of Blue’s Clues and, Lord help us, Bubble Guppies. 

It’s such a joy to watch you learn and grow, to listen to your ever-more complex thoughts. Heck, I don’t even understand half the things you try to explain to me. Sometimes I just sit and marvel that I made you. I catch glimpses of the man you will be, and of the baby you were, and I am so very grateful to be your mom. 

Happy birthday, sweet boy.