Five

Dear Alex,
Two days ago you turned five years old. But I don't think I needed to tell YOU (or anyone else, for that matter) because you have been telling people you are 5 since you were four and a half. Apparently 4 wasn't cool, and you only wanted to be 5. Your uncontained excitement about this birthday has been perplexing but fun - you really couldn't wait to be five. I think in the last two days you have said, "I'm 5, I'm a big boy" about eleventy-bajillion times. Seriously.

For your birthday this year I was not about to buy you more toys, especially since most of the toys you have received over the past 5 years have ended up discarded, broken or thrown in a bag in the garage when you wouldn't clean your room (and them promptly forgotten until you got a chance to explore the garage, at which point you "really missed ________" and HAD to have it back right NOW). So we went with ACTIVE presents - elbow, wrist and knee pads from us for the scooter from Daddy's parents; a basketball from my parents; a punching bag. We gave you a boxing lesson today and you were getting pretty good. Then you found your new love in the scooter and were begging to go out and ride it in the dark. Patience is something with which you have NOT been gifted in great quantities. :-)

You are SO excited about basketball. We are finally going to start your first official team sport in December (the 6 weeks you took soccer lessons a couple of years ago don't count). I can't wait to see how you do - I'm excited to see how you work with others and learn teamwork skills. Everyone keeps telling me you should be great at basketball, and even if you aren't, that your height will make sure people pay attention to you. I don't really care how GOOD you are, I just want you to learn important teamwork skills and learn to keep trying even when it gets tough.

I just want you to know, kiddo, that you have taught me so much over the past five years. Good and bad, there are things that I've learned from you that I will never forget. Here's a list of some of them.

1. Your body is on an automatic timer. No matter what time you go to bed, you get up at 6 a.m. I've learned that I am NOT a morning person. Which is odd, because I thought I was. Thanks for that, little man. Thanks a LOT.
2. If there was ever something that kept an adult brain firing constantly, it's having a very active, intelligent kid in the house. I don't think a day goes by that I don't have to shake my head and wonder - how in the hell...? Or, what the hell am I going to do about this? Or, why won't he REMEMBER to flush the stupid toilet?? I was once told that teachers answer somewhere around 12,000 questions in a day (or something). I think, after parenting you for five years, I've ASKED that many questions a day. You keep me guessing, kid.
3. You have taught me to appreciate your unerring capability for forgiveness. No matter how many times I may yell or get frustrated or tell you to go to your room, you still hug me and tell me I'm the best mom ever at the end of the day. I don't AGREE with you (you weren't lucky enough to have Grandma Michelle for a mom, like I was) but I appreciate that you still think that even when I don't deserve it.
4. I love that so many people tell me what a good kid you are. You remember to use your manners, you listen when we ask you to do something, you're respectful of your friends and helpful to everyone. When we ask you to do a job for us, you hop to and get it done quickly. (With the exception of cleaning your room - it really feels like yanking out impacted wisdom teeth with no anesthesia when we try to make you do THAT little chore. Oh, and you can't get a stitch of clothing into your laundry basket - your floor is always littered with clothes. But other than that, and so forth.) You've taught me to appreciate your helpful side - I don't celebrate that often enough.
5. You've taught me to be a better teacher. In parenting you, I have learned many lessons about patience (I still don't have much, but I have more because of you). I've learned about perseverance and how important it is ("Perseverance means never give up, Mom!"). I've learned that every time I think I might get a chance to sit on my laurels as a parent because "That strategy WORKED!" - the game completely changes and I have to come up with something else. But because I have had that experience with you and your complex little brain with its quirks and challenges, I now know how to approach my most difficult students with patience, love and care, and to see deeper - beneath their surface situations and backgrounds. I'm not the same teacher I was before you came along. Thank you for that.
6. I've learned that sometimes I really do suck as a mom. Actually being a parent has made me realize that it is truly one of the hardest jobs in the universe. And sometimes, we all suck at it. One day you will realize how much we suck (it usually happens around the time you turn 12 or 13) and you will stop telling me I'm the best mom ever. But the fact that you do it now melts my heart and makes me realize I need to appreciate you and your amazing, quirky little self the way you are RIGHT NOW. I only have a few more years before you start telling me, through word or action, just how much I really do suck - so I need to really work on NOT sucking. I'm sorry I suck as a mom sometimes.
7. I love you. So very much. You are an amazing little man, so intelligent, insightful, expressive and lovable. All you want is to be loved, and every action you take is further proof of that. You grow through nurturing and positives, and seeing your face light up when you do something well puts me on top of the world. I can't wait to see what amazing contributions your sweet personality will give to the world. I've learned to appreciate the little things - the smile you give me when you're sitting like a black belt at TaeKwonDo; the way you rush to take the garbage out when I ask; the way you get so proud of yourself when you ride your bike in a full circle without falling off. How you get so excited when it's story time in the evening. And yes, even though I can't stand it, I still love to see your adorable face when you tell me for the third time since you went to bed, "I have to go potty."

I still can't believe I created you. I remember you being in there, and you look a lot like me, but the little person you have become is so different from anything I could have imagined. I think that's the biggest lesson I have learned since you came along - expect the unexpected. Because you're great at throwing curveballs.

I love you, little man. Happy birthday.
Mom