Collin's 5th birthday

Not too long ago I listened to a Ted talk that argued that we are not the same people we were 10 years ago. That is, the speaker argued if we measure ourselves against external metrics as a “self today” and “self 10 years ago”, they’d be entirely different people profiles. It’s probably true. He went on to argue that even in 5 years a whole profile can begin and end.

 

It’s interesting to think about that story as I reflect on Collin’s first 5 years, because for me, 5 years seems like such a blink. It feels so recent. Yet for Collin, 5 years has made a world of difference. It’s a strange thing how time affects us all so differently.

Here we are then again, 5 years into my baby boy’s life.

Dear Collin,

It has been 5 years since the warm sunny day you made your way into this world. You greeted the sunshine with your very own glow of happiness. Since were born you’ve carried happiness in your heart. Always with a smile and effervescent excitement to be with people. Always a twinkle in your eye.

At 5 years old you’ve brought so much joy to our lives. You are at the cusp of fully discovering your own identity, I think. A journey that’s taken all 5 years.  There are magic moments that happen more often these days where I see you take all of the things you’ve learned over the past 5 years and make independent decisions that are characteristic of your own style, your own connection to empathy, and your own personality. I find myself beaming with pride more often these days than I ever have in your life. Sometimes I wonder how we got so lucky.

 

Of course, it wasn’t (and isn’t) always roses and butterflies. There were times when I wondered if you could possibly be any more impulsive, or wondered if you actually had a hearing issue because I was making requests five times before you seemed to even acknowledge them. I wondered what on Earth we were doing wrong, or why you evaded my dozen or so strategies to modify your behavior.

That’s the thing about parenting. When you have a baby the common notion is that you should know what you are doing, but the reality is everyone is learning all the time. And we were learning all the time. We still are. We’re a bit better at it now though. I’m glad we made our first journey of it with you--you’ve been a pretty gentle teacher.

At 5 years old it’s hard to describe what you are like because there are so many things, so many facets that make up your personality. I’ll try to capture the things that stand out, but I’m confident there are new exciting parts of you hiding just below the surface now, waiting for the ripe moment to become part of who you are.

So often you share your compassion with the world. Everyday, somewhere within the time we share I hear you spontaneously say, “guess what mama?”, “I love you”. Its so sweet and endearing and I’m so proud that you carry empathy and compassion as such a strong characteristic in your heart.

You are wanderer by nature. You flit and flee from thought to thought. I have to admit it took me a long time to figure out how to see this as a strength. It used to drive me crazy that your attention was so fleeting and that I couldn’t get you to focus intensely on any one thing for more than 10 minutes or so. It wasn’t until I took a step back and realized you are JUST LIKE ME- easily distractible and always observing that I could see it as something more than a challenge. At the same time, when you are moving your attention elsewhere, you are often problem solving on the spot, which is hard to fault you for. So your wandering ways, in some regard reflect your intense curiosity in the world, your love for exploring new things and for finding new ways to explore, which is a great way to approach life, I think.

 

You are inquisitive and curious about science and nature. You love being outside, you love worms, and dirt, plants and bugs, dinosaurs and lizards. You adore going to the nature center and the aquarium, camping and heading to parks and you’d spend all day there if I’d let you. Its amazing to see you follow behind your dad, excited for trips to the greenhouses at the University, doing “science” in the garden by finding worms and observing them. Helping to prepare and plant the garden. If I had to guess I think you’d say the outside was made for you, your perfect complement.

You are affectionate. Every day I hear you say “can I have a hug” and you still snuggle up when I head to your bed to read a story. You snuggle in next to my neck, grab your favorite pillow (turtle pillow, still), and listen intently to the stories of the night; usually four- two from me and two from your dad. You are patient and curious about books.

You are a reader. Knowing letters and sounds, putting them together in words, comes easily to you. I work with you on preparing for kindergarten, and you yawn and give me the “do I really have to” look when I ask you to read. You often guess words correctly, which surprises me and makes me wonder how much you know that you aren’t telling us! You love to have things read to you and I imagine in the near future you’ll start independently reading of your own volition.

You are kind and generous of heart. You say hello to everyone we know, regardless of where we are or the circumstances.  Sometimes I have to remind you that not everyone can stop to chat all the time. You are willing to try though, and I often hear you say “Hi (friend)! How are you?” from across the parking lot, or through the aisles of Target.

You are a concerned citizen of our world. Everything has to have a purpose and reason, and you are so insatiably curious that you constantly are trying to figure it all out. This weekend it was about mosquitos. “Momma, God made mosquitos on accident.”

Me: “No Collin, lots of others animals eat mosquitos, so it wasn’t an accident.”

Collin: “But momma, they bite us and we are trying to kill them all. “

Me. “True, but that’s only because we don’t like them. Its not reason enough for them not to be on Earth.”

Collin: “If we kill them all will they not be on Earth.”

Me: “Killing the ones in our tent is not them all. There are millions of mosquitos. Don’t worry.”

Mostly though, there are hundreds of ways you are unique and amazing, but now, in its all in the context of being 5. I can barely believe it. When I see you now, a little pang in my heart makes me wonder how soon it will be that you are ten, and I’m looking back fondly, with another profile of our life.

Happy birthday baby boy. We love you so very much.

Momma and Daddy