dear maxwell...

dear maxwell,

when you were born 5 years ago to the day, all we could see was your father's face. you looked just alike. after 9 months of anticipation over the whether you'd be a boy or girl, we had no doubt you would inherit my dark hair and features. but there you were, a fair-haired little josh with snow white skin and furrowed brow demanding milk.

you were perfect.

i know when your daddy looked at you, his self-proclaimed "average" looks took on a life of its own, literally (josh is crazy by the way. he is not average in any way). the face he grew to accept on himself was now in mini form, on you. a tiny version of himself. a child he could teach cool things, as he'd say before we had kids and was the #1 reason he wanted them, "because i know cool things!" and it’s true. there isn’t much your father can’t do, and nothing he wouldn't do for you. but he really hates ice skating so let's not bug him too much on that one. 

when i finally met you (you played hard-to-get for two weeks post due date and then another 5 days of induced labor) we really hit it off. you latched. we held hands. i didn't let you go for hours, days, weeks, months... but i don't think i ever will. at least in some sense. because when i look at you, when i look deep into your beautiful eyes and i stroke your neatly buzzed hair, i see me too. we don’t really look much alike, but i'm in there. and no whatever happens, i will always be there for you. and i love to ice skate. 

one more thing. last night you asked me not to talk to you like a baby. because you weren’t a baby anymore. i said I wouldn’t. 

i lied.

xoxo,

mama

PS.... happy 5th birthday!