Happy 4th Birthday, Xavier!

Xavier through the years...





Dear Xavier,

The other night when you were sleeping, I peeked in at you. I don't normally do this, because you and your sister both have a knack for waking up with the sound of the door opening, but you didn't tonight. In your bed was someone new to me. He wasn't a baby, or a chubby toddler, but he was a boy. Surely, this couldn't be you. Where is that big belly and those chubby cheeks? Whose toothpick legs are sticking out of your shorts? I can't be a mom to a boy already, can I?

But I am. I am now a mom to a boy who has actual conversations with me. A boy who assures me that he can "take care of it" and doesn't need my help. This boy tells stories, asks lots of questions, can hit a mean baseball and golf ball, and wants things done in his own way. This boy also does not like the word "no" and will challenge me often. He likes to play with his friends, climb, paint, dig up worms, go camping, and be a superhero. But, this boy still loves to cuddle. He wants me to lay with him "just for three minutes" when he goes to sleep. He wants me to read him books, and even "reads" a few to me. He can be kind and loving to his sister (when he wants) and sometimes invites her to play. He picks up other people's trash in a parking lot without prompting from one of his parents. He is thoughtful and gives things to others. He even uses please and thank you on a semi-regular basis. This boy is you.

I often tell you that I don't want you to grow; that I want you to stay little forever. You tell me that you can't...you are just going to keep growing and growing until you are big and go to college. Part of that is true. Part of me is trying desperately to hold on to my last few years of this "little" boy; to remember and savor every moment. Then there is the other part of me: This part is thrilled with all of your advancements and changes. I love watching you discover new things and hearing you use new words. I try to scrutinize your wide variety of interests to figure out which ones will become your passions in life. That part of me can't wait for the future.

For now, I am just going to try to live in the moment as much as I can. I will try to remember that soon, you will be in school full time, and we won't have as much time together. So, I hope in your fourth year of life, I will stop what I am doing to play Batman or baseball with you more often. I will let you do more on your own so that you can learn from your mistakes and triumphs. I will hug, kiss, and cuddle with you as much as you'll let me. You are my first born, my little man, and I love you more than you can ever imagine.

Love, Mom

PS- This letter is a day late. You will learn that your mom is a procrastinator and not the most punctual of people. Sorry-just add it to the list of ways I screwed you up and send me the therapy bill.