Dearest Bug,

Today you are five, and I feel like my heart is exploding because every day, I see more of the person you are becoming and I just love it. I love how sweet you can be, when I hear you say, “Good morning, Mommy!” and then we cuddle in my bed before your brothers wake up. I love how sweet and kind you are to your brothers–most of the time. I love how competent you have become: Today, for instance, when we went out for lunch, you got dressed in an outfit of your choosing. You brushed your teeth on your own. You put on your socks and shoes. You buckled yourself into your carseat. In fact, you are so grown up now, I didn’t even need to bring my diaper bag with me.


The thing is, you’ve ruined me.

It was you, because you were first. You were the one who turned me into someone who weeps at commercials. You made my heart expand to a gigantic size to accommodate you, and all of the love and wonder that you bring. It was you. Your smiles. Your beautiful eyes. It makes it hard for me to hate the world as much as I want to. What’s worse is I then went and had your brothers, who expanded my heart even further. Before, I didn’t really care all that much about people’s problems. Now, I can’t imagine letting a child go hungry (well besides you, since you refuse to eat anything). I want to give everything away to everyone. I don’t buy things for me because I would rather buy things for you and your brothers.

You’ve taken me to a level of unselfishness that I didn’t know existed in me, and it also makes me cry. Geez. I don’t know if there is enough Kleenex in the world for this post.

And what’s worse is, you are so stinking smart. It is TERRIFYING. I love the way your brain works. I love the questions you ask me. I love how you figure things out on your own.

I don’t love the fact that you can read my text messages. That isn’t cool.

But I do love how much you love reading, which is why I am happy to do it with you. Any day, any time.

And I am always happy to spend time with you.

Any day, any time.

I love you more than I can possibly say, not-so-Baby Boy.