My sweet Peanut,
Today you are 7.
6 was a big year for you.
6 saw you learn to swim without your water wings. It saw you gain the courage to try it on your own and not use them.
6 saw you ride away on your bicycle, smiling from ear to ear, shouting “take a picture Mom!!” over your shoulder. No training wheels, no sense of defeat when you fell, you just dusted yourself off, straightened your helmet, and got back on. Just the attitude I wanted you to have.
Your reading improved by leaps and bounds this past year. You were so proud of yourself for being able to sit and read a book, instead of simply recognizing words.
We moved to our new house while you were 6. You ‘helped’ pick it, sitting on my lap, looking through the online galleries. You spent precious moments telling me which room you wanted and where we should put the couch, the excitement written all over your face.
We moved from bath-time to showers, Megablocks to Lego, T-Ball to Baseball. I was excluded from the secret meetings with your brothers, and somewhere along the way, Disney movies became “baby movies”.
I’ve tried to be a good mom to you, Peanut.
I’ve tried to protect you from the things that might hurt you, without sheltering you from the things that would help you to develop and grow.
So when I told you the night before your birthday that I didn’t want you to have any more birthdays, it touched my hear when you wrapped your little boy arms around me and told me that you couldn’t be a grown up unless you keep having birthdays.
You. A grown up. I gasp for breath at the thought.
Today you are 7.
Happy Birthday Peanut.
Don’t grow up too fast. For my sake.