Dear Red-Headed Kid,
So, today you are ten. Dude! Double digits! You will never be one number again! Nine is so last year.
You continued your steady walk away from me this year, the walk you began on the day you were born. Oh, sure, you still look back often to make sure I am there but not nearly as often as you did when you were eight. This is as it should be. While I wistfully remember your early years, I’m not a mom who mourns her kid getting older. I am always ready for the next new chapter.
You are a boy with many interests: You ride in the desert, swim in the ocean, play your sax, build with Legos and Knex and tell me stories for as long as I will listen, sometimes longer. You have friends you hang out with and are well-liked at school. You approach most new experiences with bright eyes and an attitude of “I think I can do this.” I always pictured myself raising a girl but, after 10 years with you, I believe boys rule. They just do.
You are sporting some new and interesting behavior this past year. It is silly, loud and crazy and possibly could be considered annoying. When I suggest this to you, you laugh with satisfaction. Because you are nine, going on ten and annoying=good. That’s OK, it keeps the girls away. Well, mostly.
So many things about you remain the same: You are still mostly kind, you are nice to little kids, you still hug me and tell me you love me on a daily basis. And, oh, yes, you are still hilarious and make me laugh every day. This year, you have caught on to my odd sense of humor and sometimes, we laugh until we are nearly in tears. You are my partner in crime.
Happy Birthday to you, my red-headed kid, the boy who saved me from myself. Clearly, I had no idea where I was headed until I met you. A life without you would be no life at all. I am not always sure about my skills in other areas of my life but being your mother is by far the easiest thing I will ever do. This has nothing to do with me and everything to do with you. I can’t be sure what your next decade will bring but I’m here for what is sure to be a wild ride. I’ll do most of the driving for now but that day will come when you take the wheel yourself and head out into your life. I say, bring it on, baby!
Please remember always that you are my boy.