Eight

Cool Kids, originally uploaded by JenSig.

Dear Owen,

Today is your eighth birthday... and what a ride it's been. I was recently looking through some old pictures of you as a baby and toddler, for a project I'm working on, and every single one made me smile at your darling little chubby cheeks, your delightful smile, your impish grin.

You were a happy baby and have grown into a happy, thoughtful boy. A boy capable of a little mischief, yes, but a boy who, on the whole, is sensitive and creative and thoughtful and loving and kind and sweet. I'm not saying you don't have your moments — we ALL do — but you... there is some special little spark in you that touches a very central part of me in a very unique way. We are kindred spirits, you and I, and I think you recognize it, too.

We celebrated your birthday with your three best buddies from up the street, and we caught a movie, ate some pizza, and had a round of mini-golf, followed by a late-night DVD while curled up in sleeping bags around the living room floor. Surprisingly, all four of you made it — barely — to the end of the movie, just around midnight, when I turned out the light and the TV and whispered goodnight to you all.

It wasn't much later — perhaps a half hour or so — that you came quietly into my room to tell me that you couldn't sleep. You've had this happen before, where you couldn't fall asleep right away and then you get yourself all worked up over the idea that you might not be ABLE to go to sleep, like EVER, that you get upset. So I walked you into the living room and tucked you back into your sleeping bag next to your three snoozing buddies. Then I laid down next to you and curled around you for a bit, stroking your hair the way I used to do to you when you were small.

And that triggered memories of the way I used to have to do that to you nearly every night, lay there with you until you were all the way asleep, because otherwise you'd cry or come crawling out of bed looking for me. So last night I laid there perhaps longer than I normally would have, remembering those early days with you and thinking about how, each time you have a birthday, I get a little sad at how grown up you have become.

You were the one who made me a mother, my first-born, my angel baby. And you hold a very special place in my heart, reserved just for you.

I love you, little man. Happy 8th birthday.

Love, Mama