My Five Year Old

HRH turned five yesterday. I consider this a Milestone Birthday. It's not poetry; it's just what I've been thinking about as we reach the big O-5.

• You were such an easy pregnancy.
• You were born a month to the day early.
• You had this amazing head of dark hair and stunning blue eyes. I knew they'd stay blue and they have.
• You were so tiny; from head to bum, you were the length of my forearm from elbow to wrist.
• When you and I were finally alone in the hospital room together, I looked at you and you looked familiar. Not in a 'gee, he looks like his dad' kind of way but in an 'I know you' kind of way.
• You took to nursing like a duck to water.
• Daddy had never been around babies before. In the hospital, he looked at me and said, 'show me how to change a diaper' so I did.
• Uncle John bought you a preemie outfit with a little doggie and a pocket because "it didn't look girly and besides, all four day olds need pockets, you know, for stuff."
• You moved your hands with an unnatural grace. We all said 'he's going to be a surgeon like his grandpa or a conductor.' Nana said 'or one of those guys at the airports with the flashlights that direct the planes.'

Now you're five.

• You're learning to read and do math.
• You dress yourself.
• You use the computer like a high schooler.
• You love preschool and gymnastics.
• You want to know how everything works.
• You never forget a thing.
• Most of the time you're a really good big brother.
• You still love to give me hugs and kisses.
• You have an amazing imagination and an odd sense of humor.
• You love to help me cook.
• When we kiss goodnight, we tell each other 'I love you up to the sky' only now we say up to the sun or Pluto, or Jupiter or another heavenly body.
• You're learning Spanish from Dora. Today, you asked me about Latin.
• You ask me about death and heaven and tell me you don't want to die because you'll miss me.

You're smart and complex, and becoming a man. But always my baby.