I wasn’t ready for you.
Your sister Ryann was a breeze. Compliant and eager to please. As a toddler she did whatever we said without question.
Not you. You have questions. You want to know “WHY?” about everything.
You also have answers. Nothing I say is law to you. You want to say your piece no matter how big of a hole you are digging. When I try to explain that you shouldn’t talk back, you become confused, because you feel I am violating one of your fundamental rights as a child. Maybe I am. Maybe that is why more often than not I have to walk away from you during an argument. Not because I am mad, but because the things you come up with are so funny that I need to go and regain composure or else I will lose what (little) advantage I have over you.
You are getting a reputation among the kids for being the crazy one, but I know the other you as well.
I know a little boy who likes to surprise me often by having Dad warm the heating pad and bringing it up to me in bed. And when you stay up with Dad and I am up in bed reading, you’ll come in and say “Mom, if you can think of anything you need, let me know and I will bring it, you know I’m the fastest one.”
I know a kid that can tell me the difference between a cheetah and a jaguar, and 100 other animals.
I’ve seen you tackle Zane for no reason than to mess with him, but I’ve also watched you hold his hand and guide him into the lake when he was too scared to go in.
I have witnessed you destroy Ryann’s toy set-up as she was playing quietly by herself. But more often than that I’ve watched you become the best husband/dad/dog/knight/princess/waiter you’ve ever seen as she cast you in one of your guys’ many imaginary scenarios.
You have provided me with many days of high blood pressure, but even more days of laughter. I love your heart Matthew and all the crazy determination that comes with it. Happy 5!