Half A Decade!!!

Five years ago exactly (yep, I'm awake at 6:25 am, and nope, it wasn't my idea for sentimental reasons or anything; Max appeared by my left ear at 6:12 and whispered in that kind of whisper that is so loud that it is secretly shouting, "MOM! MOM! IT'S MY BIRTHDAY NOW! IT REALLY IS! I AM FIVE YEARS OLD AND I THINK MY EYES GOT BIGGER! MY TEACHER THINKS I AM GOING TO GET TO WEAR A CROWN ALL DAY SINCE I'M THE BIRTHDAY BOY! IS IT TIME TO GET UP?" and we were off), Max appeared in the world, in all his rosy, soft, slightly pointy-headed glory.

I have spoken, and most of you reading this were there to see it anyway, about the sense of flurry and anxiety that accompanied his birth and it's unexpectedly early timing. At Max's pre-kindergarten doctor visit, his pediatrician was going over his medical history with us, and he said at one point, "So I think we can move his prematurity out of the "current" part of his medical file and into the archives. It doesn't really seem to be a relevant part of his story anymore". He meant medically relevant, of course, and from my layman's perspective, I agree that it is probably way past time to safely put that piece of Max's history to bed. As his mom, however, Chapter One of the story of Max always has resonance, and it has been an ongoing challenge to hold onto those first memories of our life as Max's parents without also holding onto the anxiety. There is, therefore, an added sweetness to the delight of seeing him this morning, gigantically tall and exuberantly joyful and amazingly capable and uniquely creatively intelligent, celebrating this birthday that was earlier than we thought it would be but somehow at exactly the right moment.

I love you to the moon and back, Max, and I am so glad you are here, and that you are five, and that you continue to be your sunny and quirky self, more so with every year, every day, every minute that goes by. Happy Birthday.