Happy Birthday, Boy Monkey

I was going to wait until midnight to post this or save it for tomorrow - on your actual birthday - but that would require a few things of which I am currently incapable:

1) staying up past 10, or
2) remembering to post it tomorrow when the day becomes insane.

Instead, I post now.

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Dear James -

Happy 4th birthday! Four years ago, you came into this world with a vengeance.

You ate like a crazy baby.  You pooped like a machine.  You wore me out beyond words or grunts or snorts.  Did you ever sleep?  Ever?  Ever?

Four years ago, my world was rattled and it continues to rock.

I am still tired from you.  But somehow, I never tire of you.

I love you, boy monkey.  Thank you for showing me what real love, sacrifice and craziness is.  I thought I knew.  But there's nothing like a baby boy to prove to me one big thing:  I know absolutely nothing, will never remember anything again, and... don't care a lick about that.

I am proud of you.  You are sweet, kind and sensitive.  You feel and see things that other four year olds don't.  And you are a stinker beyond words (figuratively and literally - those toots - whew.).

You will always make me work to keep this family rotating. I can see that.  But there's a method to your genius little madness. You keep me in check.  You make me prioritize.

And for that, I appreciate you on a deeper level than "hey you're my kid and I should love you."  You are destined for big things. I feel it down to my aching bones.

I like when you saying things like, "Mom, you're my best friend, like Gossie & Gertie" or "Mom, remember the day I was born?"

Sometimes, I think you actually do.

So on your 4th birthday, I love you more than ever.

My life started the day you were born.

Love,
Me