Don’t ever agree to play Memory with him, he’ll beat you silly.
Sometimes he’ll get laughing so hard, his eyes water.
He’s incredibly brave.
He thinks about other people’s feelings.
If sports statistics came in edible form, he’d eat them at every meal.
He loves to talk.
He loves to go to Target.
He’s amazingly easy to travel with.
He’s nice to his friends.
He loves his Dad.
He loves his brother.
He tells me I’m the best snuggler in the world.
He makes this funny “tcha” sound when he’s talking about something that is ridiculous or stupid. For example, “Tcha, I mean, it’s not like we’re going to run around singing The Sound of Music or anything.”
One time Ryan had a very mature, meaningful conversation about the war with him. It blew his mind that adults running the world couldn’t find a way to talk things out.
He hates getting his curly hair combed every morning.
He’s a night owl.
He’s Ryan’s favorite companion at the Jazz games.
He can be convinced to do a number of unpleasant tasks in exchange for a German Pancake.
He loves having a babysitter.
My favorite part of the day is tucking him in bed at night. I hope he never gets to old or cool for it.
He makes my heart ache with joy.
I wrote a poem for him one day when he was a baby. I was sitting at the computer and he was sitting in his crib next to me staring and smiling. I was broken, worn out, and completely overwhelmed. Even though he was much smaller than me, I felt so insignificant in comparison. Little has changed, I guess. I’m absolutely mortified that I’ve forgotten most of the words to the poem, but I still remember the most important part:
How I feel right now is hard for me to say–
A million brilliant colors and a thousand shades of gray.
Do you know that I’ll come running? Do you know I’ll always try
To free you with my love and give you wings to fly?
These questions without answers can wait for just a while
‘Cause all the truth I’ll ever need is right here in your smile.
Happy birthday to you, Christian!