Happy Fifth Birthday, Thing 1

Five years ago today, my precious Thing 1, you were born at 8:09 a.m. in the master bedroom of the home in which we still live.


From that moment on, our lives were to be changed forever. And then, faster than we could say "Thing 1", you turned five years old and it was almost as if someone had momentarily taken the remote of life out of the tight clutches of my fist and pressed fast forward. I can hardly believe five years have passed, yet in other ways it seems as if you have been with us for an eternity.

It's undeniable that parents - mothers especially - have a deep, intense bond with their firstborn child. As luck would have it in my case, you are evolving into a miniature version of your mother, in ways too numerous to count, or to name. (Thankfully it appears as if you father's intellect, however.)

Where could I start? You have a certain zest for life, my young boy, and a passion that carries you through each day with pizazz. Like me, you are a deeply emotional and sensitive individual. You listen carefully to those around you, to what others say, and you listen intently to those who are your friends or your family. Hurtful words can sting you and leave a lasting impression, yet words of hope, encouragement and praise can lift you up higher than the clouds. You aim to please and seek praise and love as you carry out your daily tasks and as you tackle new experiences. Yet as a loving mother, I know in my heart that you already feel and take pride in everything you do, that you yourself are proud of the flowering little plant you are each day becoming.

Watching this growth is fascinating to me. I revel in the absolute joy that is your childhood. Small and inconsequential things amaze you, as do the bigger, more rich and significant things. Yet you give them equal weight, not preferring one over the other.

You are still happiest when you are playing. You beg for "ten more minutes" to play before school, before meals, before your bath, and before bed time. The world is an unexplored game to you, and you are able to create with your vivid and expressive imagination just about anything, anywhere, at any time. Perhaps it is because I am such a creative person that I find such satisfaction in contemplating and admiring your unleashed creativity. I have never, in all my years as a babysitter, teacher, coach, parent, or friend seen a child make something out of anything. When you didn't have the latest Transformer "Bumblebee", you hardly blinked before picking out a yellow matchbox car from your toy box and christening it Bumblebee. When you became an avid Indiana Jones lover , you immediately reached into your dresser drawer for the freshly-ironed, new brown dress pants I had bought you for church and put them on "because they are exactly like Indy's". You found a crisp, white shirt in your closet and put it on without an undershirt "because Indy had a bare chest too". You searched through the special, secret box under mommy's bed for the bag that was just the right size and colour to replicate the bag that Indy carries over his shoulder on all his adventures.
I've enjoyed your journey in school this year, and am pleased to be such an integral part of it. Our walks to and from the bus stop have become special times for us to bond and discuss the intricacies of your afternoons in kindergarten. You are an extremely bright boy - something we certainly didn't need your teacher to tell us - and it is so satisfying to me as a parent to see a child of mine excel at school. You are starting to become more comfortable in French and are blurting out more and more words in la langue francaise.

I think that something that stands out to me over the past year is how much I have witnessed your maturity level flourish. Five certainly seems to be the age in which you are becoming polite, thoughtful, empathetic, and even more kind hearted than you were before. Your thought processes are deeper and on such a different level than they were when you were three or four. Conversations with you are some of the best parts of my day. Your increasingly quick wit and humour brighten up even the most difficult of days.

Although I sometimes worry that I have not enrolled you in enough activities, I know that you are still young and I take pride in the fact that you play so well with your brother. At only 18 months apart, you and Thing 2 are inseparable for the most part. He worships his big brother, and you let him . . . graciously. You're a born leader and I can see in your eyes how eager you are to teach Thing 2 the ways of the world, as seen from the eyes of a slightly older brother. You don't have to be patient and understanding (most of the time) when Things 2 or 3 take your toys, but you choose to do that. It is important to you to include them in everything you do, and that inclusiveness is what makes the three of you so close.

As much as I value our family time together, I adore our special one-on-one time. You have reached that distinguished age where it is possible to take you out in public and truly enjoy your company. We can go to movies, go the library, go out to lunch, without the worries that are attached with carrying out these tasks with a toddler or preschooler.

Happy Birthday, Thing 1. Thank you for adding that little bit of spice to our lives, for enriching each of our days, and for reminding me on a routine basis that I am, indeed, the luckiest mom in the world.