Dear Ninja Boy,
To say I loved you before you were born would be an understatement. I’ve loved you since I was born, really – whenever I played house I always pretended to have a little boy, a son, with perfect freckles and floppy hair. Whenever I dreamed about being a mom there was a deep desire for a little boy who was perfect parts caring and class clown. You meet every dream I ever had about what raising a little boy should be like.
You turn 6 on Sunday. Six years and two weeks ago the doctors urged me to do everything in my power to stay pregnant until June, that was the goal and would bring me to the 8th month of pregnancy. You have always had your own schedule, though, and May 31 was the day you chose to join us in this world. It’s fitting, as we use your birthday as the benchmark of summer, the day we celebrate the start of all things sunny and bright. It matches you, little one, the ushering in of hot weather, freckles, popsicles and bugs.
This year has been an amazing one for you. You read your first book on February 8th. You earned the right to play outside without a parent in October, you orchestrated the inaugural thank you chain in November and you were a champion of scootering and bike riding in the yard.
Your Lego creations are astounding. You make the sets without help, then take your own turns and create amazingness from your brain. You want to be a scientific builder when you grow up, but don’t let anyone call it structural engineering because you need the word builder in your title. You made the most amazing haunted house with trap doors, moving parts and hidden ghosts. I wish you could see your creative brilliance from the outside, because it amazes me every day.
Science is your jam and it is a huge part of who you are and what you love. You complete experiments with the tip of your tongue sticking out delicately from the side of your mouth, your eyes narrowed in concentration. You love to say sentences that begin, “did you even know that (this amazing science fact) happens? Its easy to know when you are smart in science like me.” You usually say this with your hands in your pockets, your knees apart and slightly bent, the lobe of your left ear nearly gracing your shoulder. You smirk, too, when you are done speaking, and raise your eyebrows really tall as you shake your head in amazement at your own recall knowledge.
You are the quintessential image of summer when you pull on your bright yellow T-Ball jersey. You like to dive for every ball, even if it lands in front of you, to show you really mean it. You bat with the same determined look you use when being scientific, every time you make it to first you lick your sleeve to get the dust off your tongue. My boy, you have such concentration. I love being your T-Ball coach, I love spending two nights a week in special Mom and son time. When your hat falls off your head and your smile widens my breath catches in my throat. How can someone this amazing, this beautiful and this kind have come from me?
I’ve loved you from the moment I was born because I always knew you would find your way to me.
Love you to the moon and back,