Most mornings I can count on your little feet padding up to my bed. Your messy hair appears next to me, your body clamoring over the sheets, your knees and head finding their way into my soft spots. As much as I love sleep, I love these moments more. And often, I’m already awake, waiting for your body to join mine in the early morning light.
We giggle and play games on my phone. We cuddle and watch tiktok. You share your latest thoughts about the stuffy that accompanied you on your journey from one set of sheets to another. We make plans for the day. Mostly that involves you asking me to play and me saying I need to work, or garden, or cook. But these early morning moments are ours, yours and mine alone.
It was back to school this year, kindergarten, repeatedly interrupted by Covid quarantines. You are reading. You are writing. You idolize your brother. You love this family your dad and I have built. You are bright and funny and sweet and cuddly.
You turn 6 today. I wonder if I’ll have 6 more years of this friendship we’ve built. I wonder what we’ll laugh about when you’re 12. I hope you still find me, wherever I am in the house, to share your morning thoughts and your morning breath, your sparkly eyes and your messy hair.
I love you dearly my sweet 6 year old.
Love, Mom
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