Six Years
Dear Colin,
You wake me up in the pre-dawn hours to ask if you can research sickle-cell anemia on the Internet, but you can't pour your own milk without a minor catastrophe. You explain the exchange of carbon dioxide and oxygen during the respiratory process, but don't understand the importance of wearing pants.You'll be glued to a surgical procedure on YouTube like you're watching a Disney movie, but the mere mention of lettuce makes you gag. You tell me the difference between the cervical and the lumbar spine, pinpointing their exact locations, but draw the number 4 backwards every time.
This is my reality with you, my son. And I've been smack-dab in the middle of it for six years today. And I still don't know what I'm doing.
When I think of you, I can't help but feel like I've been given some sort of rare, precious seed. One that could grow into something amazing - the magic root that can cure cancer, or a crop that could nourish people in even the most desolate of places. And I've been entrusted to the care of this one seed. I have only one chance to figure out, by trial and error, exactly what conditions it needs in order to flourish.
That's pretty unfortunate when you consider that I can't even keep a Venus fly trap alive. You're probably lucky you're still kicking after six years under my supervision.
(Just kidding ... sort of.)
From the time you were a toddler, you've carried within you a flame of curiosity that I will do everything in my power to keep burning.
Even if it means having to watch - endlessly - that YouTube video of a centipede eating a mouse that you love so much. Or a medical animation of childbirth, over and over.
You're the perfect blend of cool and nerdy, smart and silly, and I love that crazy brain of yours.
Yesterday you graduated from Kindergarten. Today is your sixth birthday. And you've got your first loose tooth. It's been one of those weeks when I look at you and can't help but wonder where my baby went.
You're growing up so very quickly, Son. I could compare it to the speed and velocity of a rollercoaster. And all I can do is hold on ...
You wake me up in the pre-dawn hours to ask if you can research sickle-cell anemia on the Internet, but you can't pour your own milk without a minor catastrophe. You explain the exchange of carbon dioxide and oxygen during the respiratory process, but don't understand the importance of wearing pants.You'll be glued to a surgical procedure on YouTube like you're watching a Disney movie, but the mere mention of lettuce makes you gag. You tell me the difference between the cervical and the lumbar spine, pinpointing their exact locations, but draw the number 4 backwards every time.
This is my reality with you, my son. And I've been smack-dab in the middle of it for six years today. And I still don't know what I'm doing.
When I think of you, I can't help but feel like I've been given some sort of rare, precious seed. One that could grow into something amazing - the magic root that can cure cancer, or a crop that could nourish people in even the most desolate of places. And I've been entrusted to the care of this one seed. I have only one chance to figure out, by trial and error, exactly what conditions it needs in order to flourish.
That's pretty unfortunate when you consider that I can't even keep a Venus fly trap alive. You're probably lucky you're still kicking after six years under my supervision.
(Just kidding ... sort of.)
From the time you were a toddler, you've carried within you a flame of curiosity that I will do everything in my power to keep burning.
Even if it means having to watch - endlessly - that YouTube video of a centipede eating a mouse that you love so much. Or a medical animation of childbirth, over and over.
You're the perfect blend of cool and nerdy, smart and silly, and I love that crazy brain of yours.
Yesterday you graduated from Kindergarten. Today is your sixth birthday. And you've got your first loose tooth. It's been one of those weeks when I look at you and can't help but wonder where my baby went.
You're growing up so very quickly, Son. I could compare it to the speed and velocity of a rollercoaster. And all I can do is hold on ...
... but not too tightly.
Happy 6th birthday, Colin!
Oh....I ABSOLUTELY LOVE this post. What a perfect little tribute to Collin, and what a crazy smart and cool little guy you have. Happy Birthday to HIM!
ReplyDeleteHappy Birthday, Colin! I am feeling exactly this way as I look ahead to Jonah's 7th birthday in just a couple weeks.
ReplyDeleteWhat amazing gifts June brought us, huh?
What a totally cool kid.
ReplyDeleteSounds like he is on the way to becoming the next Doogie Houser. :)
Happy birthday, indeed!
ReplyDeleteI have been overly emotional as it is for a few days now and, for some reason, this entry brought tears to my eyes, maybe because, even though I have never been there in "real time" I have watched it all with my cyber eyes and it makes me smile to be just a tiny part of it!
ReplyDeleteHappy Birthday Colin! He is as handsome as he is smart. Hold on tight and stop blinking. :)
ReplyDeleteSix years ago today I had the honor of attending the birth of this amazing person. And what an interesting - and challenging - six years it's been!
ReplyDeleteThere's an old proverb that says, "It takes a village to raise a child." We've sure been given something special here.....I think it will take our whole family AND a village. ;o) You and Curtis are wonderful parents to all your boys, and I'm so proud of you!
Happy Birthday Colin! :) He and Thing 1 almost share a birthday!
ReplyDeleteYou are an awesome mom, Rita. xoxo
Happy (belated) Birthday to you 1st born son!!!!! And when you get that question about what it's like to be a mom, reread this. And let Colin read it when he's that "too cool" age! What a truly heartfelt moment!!!!!
ReplyDelete