Dear son,
Today you turn 10. And while every birthday is worth celebrating, this one is particularly poignant.
For 10 whole years, I've held you, fed you, hugged you, entertained you, laughed with you, cleaned you and cleaned up after you, answered your questions, dried your tears, high-fived your achievements. I've spent hours fretting, researching, discussing and wondering about how you're progressing socially, cognitively, biologically, emotionally and academically.
I'm often telling you to quieten down, slow down, clean up, hurry up. I may nag, I may yell, I may sigh with frustration. I discipline and punish. I lay down tough rules. And yes, I make you empty the dishwasher, pick up your stinky socks, turn off your device, do your homework, eat your vegetables, flush the toilet and play nicely with your sister.
Because this is all part of the contract I made with my heart when I became a parent. Its design, other than to protect my sanity, is to show you the path to becoming a good person. Because I consider that job number one.
But mostly, throughout this past decade, I've admired you. You amaze and inspire me, and here's why:
- You are high on life. You are always 100% in the moment (even if that moment only last 60 seconds before you are on to the next moment!) You grab each day with gusto and joy, extract from it as much delight as you possibly can. May your lust for life and joy always be with you and rub off on the people around you so they can light up the room like you do.
I can't believe how time has flown and I'm so excited for the next ten years. OK that's not entirely true. I'm terrified of the puberty years. Of hormones. Of teenage temptations. Of you learning to drive! But I'm also confident that you have the building blocks to show you the way.
Happy birthday son, I love you.
And don't forget to wear a coat when it's cold please.
And turn off your bedroom light.
And no, you can't have a third slice of birthday cake.