SEVEN

Dear Babe--
In just a few hours, seven years ago, you decided to make your grand entrance into this world.  Or, better put, I FORCED you out in a show of Herculean effort.

Truly, at 9 pounds, 13 ounces, you were massive.  Those in the room tell a tale of thinking the nurse, who put her forearm between the top of my swollen abdomen and breasts and who bore down on you to "assist", was going to crack one of my ribs.

I distinctly remember thinking, in those moments when the contractions were getting harder and longer and I could tell I was in for the fight of my life to get you here, that I was really, really, really glad you were the last baby I was going to birth.  Truly, you were like landing a 100-lb marlin on a kiddy reel.

We dubbed you "The Gentle Giant" in the delivery room.  You were so big yet so sweet that everyone just fell in love with you instantly.  And that charm has stuck.  To this day, people just love you from the moment they lay eyes on you.

I love watching you dance with abandon.  You just give it everything you have, heart body and soul.  Where your moves come from is still a mystery.  But, no matter the genre, no matter if you've seen someone dance the mamba or the fox trot or moon walk, you find the right groove and amaze us with your gift.  If I could give you one piece of advice in life, it would be to keep on dancing, right through everything the world throws at you.  Dancing is your shelter, your happy place.  Don't ever stop!

I am consistently blown away with your LEGO creations.  How you manage to dig around in that big bin and find just the right parts to create something new is astounding.  Like dancing, this is a gift, this instinct to build and imagine new things.  I don't know where it will lead you in life, but I do know that you have a talent.  And, if the only reason God gave you this ability is to use it to play with your own kids some day, that will be reason enough.  But, I suspect there is a career hidden in that love of all things LEGO.

It is so much fun watching you play with your friends and learn about sharing and enjoying other people's company.  I'm glad you have David and Caden and Vienna and Sarah and Jaimee, among others, who are friends that make your face light up.  I look forward to seeing who life brings your way this year and how you grow and change as you find that perfect, best, forever friend.

I couldn't be prouder of your progress in reading this year.  You have made so many strides that I have simply lost count.  When we go see Dr. Bergman this summer, he is going to be blown away by your progress!  There is no sweeter music to my ears than to hear you read "Hog and Dog" or "No, David" at bedtime.  I know the path has been long and the road seems long, but you are well on your way to being a great reader!  Congratulations!  Your hard work is paying off.

I am so glad for your decision that Jesus is important enough to you that you want Him to live in your heart.  By your questions, I can tell that you are curious about how God works and why things are the way they are.  Keep on asking!  Even Mommy and Daddy, who are many years older than you, are still asking questions and listening for God to answer.  And, now that you are starting to read, the Bible can start to be your answer guide, too!

Thank you for letting me know that you know you are loved.  I'm sorry if it took until you were six for this to really sink into your bones, but I want you to know that you've been loved since the moment we knew you were going to be in our family.  And that is now almost eight years ago!

I couldn't be prouder of you as a person, Babe.  You are an amazing seven year old who is growing into a young man that I am so happy to call my son.

Have a wonderful birthday, sweetheart.

Love, Mommy