Ten. We've hit the double digits now, my beautiful boy. You're not a baby anymore. For you, that is awesome! You've looked forward to this for-EVER! For me, it sucks. I'm still pretty convinced that I don't actually want you to grow up.
I was all set to write a sappy sweet post here. But you've made me laugh so much these last two weeks that I just can't do it. Working all the time, I didn't realize how very much of your personality I was missing out on! Or if not exactly missing out on, just underappreciating, maybe.
Take Father's Day for example. You took your hard earned money (yes, I will admit that its hard work growing your hair out for about 9 months just to cut it all off!) and bought your dad a gift you picked out all on your own. (Between you and your brother, I really have to say that I think you are the one who puts more personal thought into gifts.) Dad loved the Pink Floyd hat! But what made it truly memorable was the comment you made when he tried it on for you:
Looks good, Dad. But it would look better if you put your shirt on.
Or as we're walking through the grocery store the other day:
Mom, don't waste your money buying me food. I'm just going to eat it all anyway and probably still be hungry so I'll have to eat again. **pause....while I try not to laugh at that one** Wait.... that came out wrong.
Or even last night, when we were talking about what to do for your birthday, today:
Can you make me cookies for breakfast?
Happy birthday, baby. Even if you aren't a baby anymore. I love you more than you will ever realize, and love this time I have with you more than I ever thought I could. You came into our lives at exactly the right time, and you fit into exactly the right spot in our family. How did I ever get so lucky?