HAPPY 5th BIRTHDAY SAM!

5 years. My baby is 5 years old today. 5 years ago, they handed me a squinting, bundled 7 lb miracle and said, "Here is your son." Son?!?!?!?!!!! Hmmm, I thought. Ponies, Barbie dolls, backyard synchronized swimming, sisterhood, tights, braids...that I know. Can I do this well? Can I be what he deserves? And so, my reeducation began. I held him to my chest and my heart has never beat the same. Every beat, filled with him. Pride, worry, joy, laughter, tears. My eyes have not seen the same. All politics became local, every war, heartbreak, mother's soldier seen through the prism of him. My ears fill with his voice, with the questions of ENDLESS curiousity and many days I hear my own voice eerily reflected in his. And strive to do better, to be more patient, speak more gently and wisely. To be more proud of what I hear reflected back.

My mind fills with new facts. I watch more baseball, football, basketball than ever before. I sit on the sidelines of soccer, teeball, basketball games and watch with ridiculous pride as my s0n, MY son exuberantly excels. My kid! We zoom down sledding hills and waterslides together. We play minigolf and he "kicks Mommy's tushie" at bowling. I wear a pirate patch, sword fight, play with talking trains, read books about dung beetles and Berenstain bears. I wrestle and race and shoot and pitch and dunk, though never as much or as often as he'd like.

I worry. I thought I worried before him, but that was just the minor leagues. At work, I feel I should be with him. At home, I hope I won't disappoint him. When to stand firm, when to loosen up, when to push, when to step back? Are we doing right by him? Are we worthy of this amazing gift of being his parents? He is so sensitive, I want to protect that and toughen him up all at once. I don't want the world to hold any disappointments for him, any pain...but I know it will.

I laugh harder than ever before. His silliness tires me sometimes, but is infectious. He argues and cajoles, always thinking one step ahead. He gets the last word more often than not. He is so ticklish, like me, but loves it, egging on his ruthless dad for more, more, more.

His insight, intellect, and compassion amaze me. We talk about his brother, how close he is to walking, and he asks, "Did G-d hear me pray for Aaron?" Every time a beloved family member leaves, it is a trial. I get frustrated and he says, "But I just LOVE people." We discuss the dietary habits of sharks, the election of Barack Obama, the superiority of white sauce to regular spaghetti sauce, the latest Michigan loss, his love of hotels, a possible move to DC, his wish that we saw his beloved aunt every day. I look forward to years of good conversation.

He falls asleep in the car and I carry him up the stairs. He wakes up, but quickly pretends to be asleep, savoring this brief return to an earlier time, egged on by sibling rivalry. His feet dangle below my knees, his body is all angles and muscle. The sweet baby chub is all gone, replaced by 100% solid little boy. I ache and wonder where the time went. I walk slowly up the stairs, slowed by his weight but also savoring the moment, knowing soon I won't be able to carry him like this, and someday he will look down to see me.

Sam made me a mother. I understand my own parents better than I did before. I appreciate them more. My childhood memories become my how-to guide. My mom serves as my most valued professor, mentor. I know with whatever career choices I make next, THIS job will end up mattering most. I relish watching him with them, so much the same as with Andrea and I, and so much different. I am thrilled he has them, and vice-versa.

I love my husband more, and more deeply than ever before. I see him in Sam and marvel at what a special little boy he must have been. I watch them sleep, their profiles so similar and my heart fills. He is patient, kind, full of energy and fun and zest. I thank my lucky stars that I chose so wisely.

I love this little boy. I love the baby he was, the toddler, now the inquisitive pre-schooler. For once in my life, I have a hard time looking ahead. I want to slow the clock, preserve this time. These lyrics keep playing in my head, today, for Samuel....

Fill my heart with gladnessTake away all my sadnessEase my troubles that's what you doThere's a love that's divineAnd it's yours and it's mine like the sunAnd at the end of the dayWe should give thanks and prayTo the one, to the one

Thank you for Sam. Happy 5th Birthday sweet boy!