Today, you are still four. But today is the last day for that. When you wake up tomorrow, my sweet boy, you will be five. A new half-decade, a whole hand, a next stage.
Five. Five is school-aged, five is way beyond toddler, five is full-on kid. Five is skinned knees and dirty socks and dump trucks and hockey. Five is opinions and conversations and growth.
The other day, you snuggled up to me and told me that I was “the best mom in the world”. Those words made me happier than I can explain. When you’re a parent yourself, you’ll understand. When you’re a teenager, I will remember this. Your “I-love-you”s, your “please-sing-me-a-song”s, your snuggles and cuddles and kisses, they will dwindle. Your independence will grow and our relationship will evolve. But for now, I’ll cherish my sweet, sensitive, cuddly little boy.
You are one half of my greatest accomplishment, my biggest treasure, my deepest emotion. My everyday-moment-joy doubles when you smile and raises tenfold when you laugh. I hurt when you hurt, and when you cry on the outside I cry on the inside. Before we had you, I wasn’t even sure I wanted children, or had a maternal instinct inside of me. You changed that, my love. You showed me a side of myself that I didn’t know even existed, and a side of myself that now seems so intuitive, so fateful, so clear, so this-is-what-I-was-meant-to-do obvious.
I am appreciating each day, each moment, each milestone with you. I’m learning to be a parent as you’re learning to be a kid. We’re in this together. It’s our journey. Here we go.
“I’ll love you forever, I’ll like you for always, as long as I’m living, my baby you’ll be.”