Birthday Baby

It caught me off guard
Came rolling downhill, top speed
Today you are one.

*****

This birthday taunts me. It taunts me with bright decorations, delicious cake, first-time presents, and of course, your gorgeous smile. It wants to make me squeal with delight and bask in your newfound toddlerhood. And I do. Gratefully. But with heavy heart.

Today is the first step you take away from babyhood. You are becoming your own boy. And although I want you (need you) to have many, many more of these blessed birthdays, I also want to freeze time. I want to remember you exactly as you are today. My baby boy.

I want to remember the way it feels to hold your soft, round face in my hands. And I want to remember how your warm, heavy body feels as I sway and rock you to sleep. The way your hair swirls, ever so gently, at the back of your neck. The sweet little dimples in your chubby hands. The way you lean your tired head on the spot on my shoulder that always seemed like it was made for you.

I want to remember what an easy baby you are. How you always try to please. Try to make us laugh. How you run up and hug my legs every two minutes. How you bonk your head on anything and anyone that you like. How you practically live in a smile drawing everyone to you. How you wrap your tiny arms around my neck and give it a squeeze. I want to remember that. I want to remember how that feels.

Because it all goes so fast. I know that now. And I want to remember all the things that made me fall in love with you so quickly, and stay in love. And I know that just as I love the baby you, I will love the little boy you, the teenager you, the young man you, and the adult you. I know that. I am sure of it.

Still, I want to remember.

And I want you to always remember, just as I tell your brothers, no matter how big you get you will always be my baby.

I am so proud of you. So proud to be your mumma.

I love you, my baby boy.
Happy Birthday.