Dear Scorch-

I think I start every yearly letter to you marveling over how old you are and this year will be no different. You are NINE. N-I-N-E NINE. This is your very last year in the single digits and my mind boggles over this fact. Weren’t you just born? Wasn’t I just changing your diapers and rocking you to sleep at night?

I read something a few months back that was floating on Facebook calling age 9 “halftime” for kids since you are half way to 18 and, presumably, becoming an adult. Will you think less of me, sweet boy, if I admit I rolled my eyes at that notion so hard they almost got stuck in the back of my head? Because I did. Don’t get me wrong, 9 is an amazing, awesome, exciting age and yes, when you’re 18 hopefully you’ll leave home but to think that I’m halfway through parenting you is hogwash. I still call my mom and dad for advice multiple times a week and I assume you’ll be no different.

There are a lot of things about parenthood that surprise me but perhaps the one that surprises me the most is how unsentimental I am. I mean, I cry at your concerts and get choked up at the start and end of every school year. Milestones sometimes hit me hard, but for the most part, I don’t mourn your baby-self. Sometimes I miss your squishy compactness and holding you under my chin, but dude- I LOVE watching you grow. I wasn’t sure if I would, I honestly don’t have much experience with kids but you, sir, are blowing me away. There is so much I love….

> I love watching you interact with friends. You, my love, are this great combo of leader and peacemaker. You always have ideas and thoughts on what you should do but you’re easy going enough most of the time to change plans if others want to do something different. You are a good, kind friend who gets along with everyone. You have no interest in girls outside of being friends and I’m totally fine with that!

> I love watching you play ball. You are obsessed with baseball right now. This past year, you played all year long. Little League in the spring, summer ball, fall ball and then weekly clinics up during the winter. I have no idea if this will stay your passion, but right now you’re all about it.

> I love watching you learn. I legitimately got choke up this spring watching you learn cursive because that is amazing (yes, I’m a nerd. Deal with it). Your curiosity and passion are a joy to watch. There is nothing better then hearing you tell your sister what an adjective is.

> I love how affectionate you are. I admit, I SUCK at cuddling. You always get hugs and kisses- always- from both your father and me. But long, laying-on-the-bed-reading-a-book cuddles? Nope, not my thing. But I’m trying because I know one day you won’t want to cuddle and that I know I’ll miss.

> I love how fun you are. I love our dance parties in the car, your infectious laugh, your sly comments and your desire to share everything you think is funny. (Even if your stories take for-freaking-ever to tell. We’ll work on that, bud.) You are a joy to be around and I don’t think you’ve ever met anyone who hasn’t been charmed by you.

Sweet boy, it’s impossible to tell you just how loved you are. There aren’t words big enough or expressive enough to encompass all we feel for you. Your father and I must have done something really good in our lives for God to give us you to raise. Every birthday you have leaves me so excited to see where you’re going next and who you’ll grow to be.

I hope this year is an amazing one. I hope you keep cultivating good friendships, I hope you keep loving with all your heart and I hope you never lose your joy! You are astounding and I’m so glad you’re ours.

Love,
Mom