(i know your birthday was april 7. and i'm just now getting around to posting a note about your special weekend. this is typical treatment of a middle child, isn't it? i hope you know it's not personal. but then again, this might be something you discuss in therapy sessions in your 20s...)
when you were born, only 16 months after your sister, i was completely overwhelmed. how would i handle 2 babies? why hadn't dad and i thought about this before...ok, never mind. thinking about that might send you to therapy earlier than your 20s. your sister pretty much screamed for the first 6 months of her life; what if you were like that too? what would i do?
instead, you rewarded me. the first night we were home, you slept for 7 hours straight. it helped that you were so big. 8 pounds, 8 ounces--almost a full 3 pounds heavier than your sister. of course, now she is a full head taller and can beat you up (and does, quite often it seems) with one hand tied behind her back--or maybe both, since she likes to kick at you as well...
i soon realized that you were going to be my laid back child. no, i don't mean still, or quiet--but easygoing, definitely. we all know how much you love to talk and tell stories: within minutes of emerging from the birth canal, you were already telling a story. while aunt sunnye held you, you grunted, and grunted, and grunted...the nurses said they had never heard a newborn baby make so much noise. you seemed so peaceful, yet like you had something important to share with me. with your dad. ok, with anyone who would listen.
as you have grown older, at times it has been so difficult to stop and really get to know you. after all, with a sister so close in age to you, i sometimes fear that she overshadows you. but then my fears are allayed when i realize that you will not let anyone overshadow you. you are a bright light, always telling your story, always creating, thinking, moving, laughing, making everyone around you laugh (even--especially--when you are in trouble). in those ways you are so much like your dad, i think.
we joke about how one day, you will grow up to be a politician or pastor (those can be closely related, although hopefully you won't be a poltician-type pastor...). (ok, we also say that if we don't corral those dangerous parts of you, you could end up in jail, but we are just joking...if that happens you are in SO much trouble, mister.) you definitely know how to work a crowd. when i drop you off every morning at school, i am amazed at the people you know. as a kindergartner, you already know almost everyone in the school. you have waved to 5th graders, and when i ask how you know them, you just shrug your shoulders. meeting new people and making them like you is second nature to you. invading their personal space, but in a way that people don't mind, is also a skill of yours that completely baffles and amuses me.
i love how you snuggle with me. i know one day you might stop doing this. someday it might be uncool for you to sit and hug me. but for now, i am going to treasure those moments when you jump and hang on me for dear life. and i'll hold on to you for dear life too.
i love you, my middle child.