And…Bird’s 9

When I kiss him goodnight I call him my First Baby. I give him kisses, a nuzzle, and a back rub. He usually has his face in a book and tolerates my affection. On nights he is feeling more baby than boy he puts his arms around my neck and snoozles me back. As I leave his room I say, “I love you to the moon and back.” Then I blow him a kiss, and he pretends to catch it and put it on his cheek.

And every single night I marvel at how big he is and wonder how he ever fit in the crook of my arm.

My Bird is ever so much like me. This is why I want to be his bubble wrap. I can predict when he will falter and when he will fete. This why I feel a tinge of hypocrisy every time I yell at him or punish him. When he rolls in eyes in class when someone gets the answer wrong? That’s all my fault. Totally my genes at work. Bird and I share the same constitution, attitude, and glass-half-empty outlook that annoys everyone else but works for our sensibilities. We look the same in baby pictures and appreciate a good pun. My Bird and I are the book worms in the family and find such comfort in the pages of a book.

Bird is the kind of kid whose sense of humor is mature but not precocious. He understands subtlety and loves some word play. He is insightful and intuitive, which makes for lots of spirited conversation. My boy is stubborn like his dad (who would say he’s stubborn like me) and persistent as hell. It’s most unfortunate he has parents who don’t cave or he’d rake in a lot of stuff for simply wearing people down. I tell myself this will serve him well when he is an adult.

We joke that Bird is most likely to grow up to be Alex P. Keaton. He loves the feel of crisp bills between his fingers and fervently saves the cash he gets for birthdays, holidays, and odd jobs. The kid has big plans. For all of Bird’s antics and sass and tough guy ways, he really is a tender hearted little boy who has a soft spot for our dog Lark. He feels life fiercely, for better or for worse. Bird is the rare soul who is guided by both head and heart.

Nine years ago today, he filled my head with promise and swallowed up my heart.

Happy Birthday to my Baby Bird!