Four years ago, we finally met you. I still remember the tears in your father's voice when he said to me "We have a son! We have a son!" And I remember how tiny you seemed curled next to me in the bed that night (though you were a hefty 8 pounds, 12 ounces when you were born). The first three weeks were tough (call a lactation consultant immediately!), but every day since then has been a joy.
I love to listen to you sing, watch you dance (and dance with you), see you hug your sister. I love that when I ask for a hug, you still come running (followed quickly by your sister). I love watching you grow up, even as I miss the little you from the day before. And I love to see you in orange and blue.
Happy birthday, my son!
