A Letter To My Six Year Old




My Dear Clyde,

Here we are, your sixth birthday!  I thought today a lot about the day you were born.  Your dad was halfway across the state, and I had spent half the night throwing up and woke up queasy, before the contractions set in.  I wasn't expecting your birth that day - I spent the morning crunching tiny bits of ice to help with nausea, but before dinner time, you were in my arms.  I cried when I first saw you, said you were so handsome.  And you still are, but now when I look at you, instead of a handsome, scrunchy baby face, I see a handsome little boy.  Where did that baby boy go?



This year has been so much fun with you.  This year you learned to ride a bike.  You got really interested in legos, and built an entire spaceship by yourself, not to mention "cloud pushers" and other inventive planes.  You have continued to be interested in trains and planes, but after our Kennedy Space Center trip, spaceships have been added to your list of favorite vehicles.

Every time I ask, you give me the biggest hug, trying to squeeze all the air out of me.  You come up to me with your little quirked grin and tell me I'm the best mom ever, or ask with faux casualness if you can have a snack.  On family movie nights you try to squeeze yourself right next to me and your dad before your siblings notice.

You find particular joy in "tricking" us or getting us to laugh.  My favorite quote from you this year came when I casually asked where Gwen was. "I ate her," you replied, seriously and not missing a beat, and when I looked up your eyes were twinkling and you laughed.



You often tell me you love our "school" Bible time, and I can tell so much of what we are learning from God's word is soaking in.  Your little heart is open to the Lord, and it is a joy to me to see that.  There is nothing I hope more for you, my boy, than to know Jesus and to love and serve Him with your whole heart.

Sometimes you come into our room in the middle of the night.  "I had a bad dream," you'll whisper, and when I ask what it was about, you always say "a dinosaur".  I often wonder if you really have that many dinosaur dreams, or if you've just figured out that claiming a dinosaur dream lets you sleep on the floor next to our bed.

I rub your hair and give in every time, not because I'm so tired, but because I really don't mind having you camped out on the floor next to me.  Someday you won't come in the room in the middle of the night anymore.  Someday dinosaur dreams will be gone forever, and I won't get to see your angelic little boy face dreaming by my feet when I get out of bed in the morning.

No, I don't mind.  I like having you close to me, my sweet boy.  You are growing up so fast.  You are so mischievous and fun, and you also have such a soft, sweet heart.  Even as you grow up, year after year, I hope you keep that always.



Happiest of birthdays, my adorable SIX year old boy!  No matter how big you get, you'll always be my baby.  I love you more than words can say, Clyde Boy.

Love,
Mama
You may also like:
Natalie said...

This is the sweetest! My big just turned 7 - it goes by so fast.

© Through Clouded Glass. Design by MangoBlogs.