Dear Alex,

YOU. ARE. FIIIIIIIIIIIIVE. You’re actually 5 and some change now, with the maturity and smarts of a 7 or 8 year old, but I still can’t believe it. In a lot of ways it feels like I just found out we were expecting you yesterday. In even more ways, it feels like you’ve always been there. And I suppose you have– for I’ve never been without my heart or soul, and you’ve always been a part of that. There’s a popular bible verse in Jeremiah resonates with me on this particular subject: “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart (Jeremiah 1:5).” Remember the very first letter I wrote to you, right when we were about to start trying for a baby? I called you a twinkle in my eye. You’re still that, and so much more.

It’s been an amazing year for you, and I’m so excited for all the things you have coming up on the horizon. Five is a really fun age– you’re reading and writing like nobody’s business, you’re making closer friendships & lots of lasting memories, you’re taking bigger risks & learning so many new things, and at your core you’re gaining a depth of feeling & understanding that forces me to begrudgingly admit that you’re not my “baby” anymore. (But who are we kidding– you’ll ALWAYS be my baby! 😉 ) As I’ve said about many other phases of parenthood thus far, it is a very bittersweet feeling.

It’s been awhile since I’ve shared a poem I wrote about you. You have a thing lately with coming into our bed at some point most nights… and honestly, I don’t mind. Not only because I know this time is fleeting, but also because it’s hard to find one-on-one quality time with each of you three on a regular basis. I’ll take it where I can get it, even if it means less sleep. I can sleep when I’m dead, right?

RIGHT?!?! My God, I’m so tired. Zzzzzzz….

Anywho, I’ve sat here for a good 10 minutes now thinking of all the amazing things you’re up to, what an awesome person you’re becoming, and how proud I am of you. But that’s lead to my getting pretty emotional, so I think I’ll let the pictures do the telling for me.

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And I’ll wrap this up by saying what pictures can’t — THANK YOU. Thank you, my sweet Alex, for making me a mother. For being the twinkle in my eye, the skip in my step, the zest that makes life worth living. Thank you for teaching me more than I can ever hope to teach you. Thank you for being the best son, big brother, and friend I can possibly imagine.
All my love,
Mom