Letters to My Children – SEVEN

Seven.

I remember the feeling when I held you for the first time. Time stopped for me at that moment, seven years ago. I was awestruck.

It was just yesterday that I kissed those marshmallow cheeks, breathed in the smell of your fluffy blonde hair, held your chubby toddler hand, and watched you learn to walk with wobbly steps. Those hands and cheeks have thinned, the hair darkened, and the steps have grown sure. But still you walk with your hand in mine.

Not long ago, you were three, devastated because you didn’t want to turn four. You wouldn’t let us put four candles on your cake, so we put three. We let you stay three just a bit longer. In some ways, I wish I could really stop the clock.

You have come far, my sweet boy. This time several years ago, I was worried to death that you couldn’t talk, only speaking in choppy, fragmented thoughts. But you have grown. You have learned. You have blossomed into the sweetest boy I could imagine. You are full of imagination, and full of wonder at the world. You are so very full of love. You are learning to express yourself, and although that is an ongoing battle for you it seems, you continue to impress me.

I have so many wishes for you in your seventh year. I wish you lots of fun. Lots of childhood play. Lots of days outdoors, exploring, getting dirty, doing boy things. I wish you lots of adventures in the pages of a favorite book – you are learning to love reading these days, and finally getting good enough to really enjoy yourself. Such a milestone for this momma, because I spent my entire childhood with my nose in a book. Finally, I wish you lots of love. Lots of hugs and cuddles while you are seven and it’s still cool to give your momma hugs and cuddles, even in front of your friends.

I wish you a wonderful year, my sweet boy.