This weekend we celebrated your birthday. The day 7 years ago in which mama gave birth to my littlest pride and joy, bringing with you a complete picture to our family portrait. And in the past seven years, your presence in our family has been one of importance as your smile lights up the lives of all the rest of us.
Jari, I couldn't love you any more than I do. You are so full of wit and you have the power to make mama laugh more than anyone else in the world. I can be in your presence and for no reason at all, other than you, I start to giggle and laugh and smile, unable to control the happiness that emanates from me. You are so very introspective, and watching you decipher the world and it's workings makes me take a second look at what is going on as well...just how does this all work and come together?
Sometimes I get annoyed with you. You can never come to me and ask when you have a question, but scream from wherever you happen to be "Mama! MAAAMMMAAAA! MMMMMAAAAAMMMMMAAAAAAA!!!" until I inevitably make my way to your side and can hear what it is that you need. Or the way you throw yourself upon the ground, wherever you are, when something isn't to your liking. "I can't walk. I can't carry my bag. I can't...I can't...I can't" all the while lying upon the ground or floor rolling around as if in pain. And the seatbelt issue. My dear son, since your birth, you have been required to wear a seatbelt. Put it on already and be safe. Even if you have travel sickness, that is no excuse to not wear your safety belt in the car. And no, it's not safe if you have it stretched 100 miles long wrapped only around your big toe.
But there are other things in which take away every annoyment we pass throughout the day. "Mama, may I help you cut the fruit? Mama, will you please come play soccer with me? Mama, can I help you fold the clothes? Mama, would you read me this story?" And then, there is bedtime, when my favorite moment of the day is upon us, snuggling together in bed when I read you your chosen book, and you tell me all about the story in your own words after each page. And often, halfway through the book, something else crosses your mind and we spend ten minutes just discussing something that we did, something that made you happy, something you are excited about. And then, as fast as the conversation began, you suddenly tell me to finish the story, my mind in a whirlwind. After the light is out I begin to sing, all your favorite bedtime songs, and without doubt you will tell me "Mama, the two dinosaurs and Sanomi and then one extra bonus, k?" as I hear sleep begin to overtake you. But still, you wiggle, first left and then right and then your feet between my legs and then all the covers shoved off and then rolling toward me. And always, always, I await the coming moment, when your arm wraps around my neck and pulls me close and I can feel your sweet breath on my face as I softly sing into your ear and feel a total sense of peace envelop me, snuggled there next to you. Until you fall asleep and I can't bring myself to leave, because I am lying next to you with the strongest feeling of love I could begin to muster and I don't want to move, to break the spell, and often, I just fall asleep there next to you until Papa comes and wakes me later, and we've both shifted positions, and as I get up I give you a last goodnight kiss and tell you I love you and to have sweet dreams as your eyelashes flutter against my cheeks in response.
Every bathtime, I get glasses of bubbly beer from you, in which I have to pay 5 cents and you giggle as the bubbles foam against my lips and I pleasure you in taking a slug of the brew you have created. Or the times when we bathe together and play games with all the animals, and you sometimes squeal out "Mama, scoot over, you're taking alllllll my space" which I usually am.
How about the times you tell me I am the prettiest mama from all the kids in your class, except for Xander's mama.
Or how about when I hear you tromping downstairs and you appear at my side, a game in your hands, and ask with your big blue eyes looking at me pleadingly "Mama, will you play this with me?"
Yes, my little bug, you turned seven years old. Seven years of life, just the beginning. And I am so glad, for I want to share so much more with you, so many more smiles, so many more snuggles, so many more playdates and household chores together. Happy Birthday my darling son. May life be as happy for you as you have been for me. I love you. I couldn't love you even one tiny drop more.