Five. Five always feels official. Four felt like I could cheat and call you a toddler still. But five doesn’t work that way. Five means Kindergarten and all kinds of bigger kidness calling.
I finally understand why moms baby their babies. It’s hard to see them grow. You don’t look at milestones as firsts. You look at them as lasts.
Go ahead and call me like every other mom then, because I’ll keep calling you my baby.
Thankfully for me, you still have a munchkin voice and say things like, “Her not my girlfriend anymore.” And, “Can we stay for a couple whiles?”
+ Your pronouns are still all mixed up in the cutest way. I told your teacher that I couldn’t bring myself to correct you, but that I understood if she must do as as she must.
+ I asked what your full name is, a few months ago, and you replied, “Rocco Royal Beloved.” And when I asked what your last name was you said, “hmmmm, McBear?” Rocco Royal Beloved McBear.
+ You love to color. All the time you want color. And you stay in the lines, although I’d tell you you never have to stay in the lines. You are meticulous with your coloring.
+ With that said others are saying you might be an artist and you think you might too.
+ You still give the best hugs.
+ Stars Wars is you’re favorite. Dark Vader and Obi Nobi Tatobi.
+ You call St. Patrick’s Day, Leprechaun Day.
+ On the first day of school you came home and said you asked Scarlett to marry you. When I asked what she said, you replied, “Her said yes.”
+ You call me your sweet honey.
+ Your favorite song is, “No,” by Megan Trainer (thank you Gommy -ha).
+ You are learning to ride without training wheels
+ You always ask me, “Can you look up…What color is all the superheros?” You want me to google colors so you can get them just right. You even asked me to look up what color David and Goliath were and then told me that “Everybody where God lives….them have sandals on.”
+ You are obsessed with wearing your blue Zara skinny pants to school everyday.
+ Lately you like me to come into your class and start your morning work with you.
+ Every time I turn around you’ve put something interesting on. Your pirate necklace. Three bracelets. Four sweatbands. A beanie hat.
The faces you make and the constant expression on your face makes my day.
Your name means Rest of Heaven and that is exactly who you are. Your sweet and silly spirit has brought rest and laughter into our home and lives at just the right time.
Every night I ask you who you are and you say, “Beloved.” That is my greatest prayer for you…that more than anything you will ever know or come to learn is that you are God’s beloved…..and mine too.
Happy Birthday Sweet Rocco Royal Beloved McBear!