Upstairs, asleep in his Spider Man bunk bed, is a little boy. Not a toddler, no longer a preschooler, even, but a full-fledged, incredibly cute B.O.Y.
I am truly aghast at the speed by which life manages to age both my children and me. Six years ago tonight I was bouncing on a big old exercise ball while my husband and oldest son watched a rerun of Star Trek in anxious anticipation of the moment I said "It's time." Bear arrived in a hurry and still seems to be in a state of perpetual motion; jumping, climbing, twirling, and shouting his way through life. He's entertaining, exasperating, and exactly what this mom needs some days. Well, every day, actually.
Today was a special day indeed. Pumpkin muffins for a birthday snack at school, a special crown made by his beloved Frau Martin, and an award ceremony where he was presented with a certificate for academic achievement (which, of course, meant absolutely nothing to him; I was pretty happy, though).
For a lot of reasons.
Happy Day You Arrived, kiddo.