Monday, January 10, 2011

Epistle: To J. on the Occasion of His Fifth Birthday

Dear J.,

Five. Wow. How did that happen? I swear, just yesterday, you were this little bit of a thing, and now you are just -- well, you're still a little bit of a thing, but you're a BIG little bit of a thing.


 You are obsessed with dinosaurs. OBSESSED. You know all about them, you talk about them, you play with them, you never stop with them. You love dinosaurs, J. A LOT.

You also like ravioli -- it is one of the few foods you eat consistently. That's great, because kosher ravioli is NOT AT ALL OVERPRICED. Ahem.

You love school. You love the kids in your class, your teacher, the school itself -- you are thriving and happy. You are amazing, even if you are going to KILL ME with your poop issues. But let's not dwell on that right now. Let's talk about how you, your sister S., and Baby A all have EXACTLY THE SAME FACE and it's, like, a little scary to look at pictures of you from before your third birthday, because I would swear they are actually pictures of Baby A, save for the fact that YOU HAVE TWO EARS.

Let's talk about how smart you are, and how you come up with these incredible, profound thoughts, or how you love to watch the Super Mario Brothers Super Show, or how you will check out who is at the park and then decide, much to the disappointment of the children CHANTING YOUR NAME, that you do not actually want to play outside.

You are awesome, J. You really are. Even when you tell me that you're going to kill me, or when you announce that you're not going to sleep in my bed anymore because I won't let you do whatever it is you're hoping to do that moment, or when you make it known to all that YOU DO NOT LIKE WHAT IS HAPPENING, you are still awesome. And delicious.



I love you! Happy Birthday!

Love,
Mommy

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