To the boy who taught me to trust in God’s timing… thank you. If we hadn’t gotten pregnant 3 months after we were married, and about 10 months before we planned on getting pregnant, we may have gotten too used to freedom before becoming parents and would long for it more now.
To the boy who taught me what long labor was… thank you. If your labor had been shorter than 34 hours, your sisters’ labors would have seemed intolerably long.
To the boy who taught me that love at first sight is real… thank you. This cynical, hard to get girl became a little more sensitive when I first laid eyes on you, fresh out of the womb.
To the boy who taught me how to be a 24 hour, around the clock nurser… thank you. I was so tired and so drained, but you showed me it was okay to sit for hours and breathe in every little detail of my baby boy. Little did I know that your first latch would start me on the 6 year, solid nursing journey I’ve been on since you were born.
To the boy who didn’t sleep… thank you. Your record was 23 wake ups in one night. You averaged around 12 wake ups per night for the first year of your life. You taught me patience, perseverance, and how long a mother can go with an incredibly big sleep debt. You also made it seem like your sisters’ 6 average wake ups a night were walks in the park.
To the boy who has always loved to help… thank you. You have your papa’s servant leader heart. Since you could push a step stool up to the kitchen sink, you’ve been eager to lighten my load.
To the boy who loves his younger siblings… thank you. Whether by blood or fostering, you have loved and cared for every child in this home. Asking to learn to change diapers, feeding bottles, playing games, protecting them, and pushing them on the tree swings are just some of the ways you show your love for them. I’m in awe of your selflessness.
To the boy who hates to be taught anything… thank you. You sometimes frustrate me with your know-it-all approach to your home education, but my goodness if you don’t send me to my knees before God to trust in His strength and not my own. And you shatter my pridefulness when you end up learning on your own anyways after my failed attempts to figure out how your brain works.
To the boy who loves Jesus… thank you. Your little voice in the back of the van on visit days saying “mama, can we listen to Dr. Sproul sermons?” is the accountability I need to stay spiritually fed. Your prayers, sometimes long and lofty, sometimes simple, always touch my heart. Your sensitivity to the things of the Lord make my heart leap with joy. I pray you will know and walk with Jesus your whole life.
To the boy who snuggles the best, can quote every line of all 3 Cars movies, loves to ride his bike, stands on a chair to reach the mail every day, puts pigtails in his sisters’ hair, sings lullabies to his foster brother, wants to be just like his daddy, adores his nana, and is a sensitive soul… thank you for making me a mother. I can’t imagine life without you. I’m so proud of you, little man. Happy 6th birthday, my darling boy. I love you. Right up to the moon… and back.