Monday, August 01, 2011


First born ...


We call you the Yogurt Monster. Whenever we serve yogurt with a meal, after everyone has finished eating, you'll inconspicuously roam around the table with your spoon in hand and gobble up whatever yogurt remains on plates. Thankfully, your culinary repertoire also includes cantaloupe, strawberries, apples, oranges, watermelon, bananas, spaghetti without any sauce (only butter and a tiny pinch of salt), tacos (with only cheese) and pizza (lacking anything green). You also enjoy pancakes, waffles and ice cream. You love movies, but abhor watching them in a theatre because they are much too scary on the big screen. You also love with a passion all things science (most notably dinosaurs), super heroes, Forest, your sisters and books.

You have the shortest temper fuse and will vacillate between declaring, "THIS IS THE GREATEST DAY EVER!" to "THIS IS THE WORST DAY OF MY LIFE!" over a span of two minutes if something doesn't go your way. Despite that, you are thoughtful and kind and extremely intelligent. Whenever you meet someone new, you strive to firmly shake their hand - look them in the eye - and say, "How do you do?!" Sometimes, you'll struggle behind heavy doors whenever we enter stores because it is so important that you hold them open for the person behind you. When we were on a bus a few months ago, my heart soared when you stood up and offered your seat to an elderly woman that climbed on board.

Academically, you are the variety of child I most definitely was not ... because you are one of those children that just absorb knowledge. You tested out of kindergarten midway through the year and I suspect that by the time you're eight, you'll have eclipsed me in your general understanding of the world and all things electronic. You are brave and daring and will jump off the highest dive at the community pool. However, you will not venture outside alone because you are terribly afraid someone is going to steal you. When you tossed a coin in to a fountain last month, you confided in me that you made two wishes. Your first wish was to meet Zesus (a.k.a: Jesus) and show him your polite manners. Your second wish was to spend an afternoon home, alone, with me. Your second wish was happily granted.

We made muffins and built an elaborate castle out of Legos, restaurant out of wooden blocks and restroom out of magnetic tiles. Because, in your words, "Kings and Queens get hungry too and nature calls for every one!"

Although you have started the "goofy" stage where you tend to act like an absolute clown whenever we're in public, you have a very gentle heart. It's evident every time younger children come around and I see that you take extreme care to share your toys and let them go first. Now, if you could only extend that same love and compassion to your little brother, it would be great. There are moments when I see how well you play together and my heart soars, but those moments are usually short-lived. I know it's not always easy having a living, breathing shadow in the house who likes to ambush all of your clothing and toys and practice his Kung Fu on you, but at a minimum, I'd really appreciate it if you could stop pretending like he is the varmint in whack-a-mole and your job is to annihilate him.

You are the light of my life.

I love you to the moon and back.