When you were born, the nurse looked over the curtain and the first words ever spoken about all nine pounds of you were “oh my gosh, he looks like a kindergartener!” And I find myself six years later saying the exact same thing. Oh my gosh, you look like a kindergartener. How can you be going to kindergarten in the fall? I was just kissing those sweet fat cheeks as I stared at your little squinty eyes all night long that first night in the hospital. Just you and me awake. I tucked you into my gown, you refused to wake up and eat (a stage that you soon grew out of with a realness!), and I just stared at how perfect your little face was. A head full of black hair and cheeks so chubby they pushed your little eyes closed even when you were awake. I had a dream about you before you were even born. Dark hair and blue striped pjs. In my dream you cried when the nurse took you and as soon as she handed you back to me, you stopped. I remember in the hospital when the nurse would come check your blood sugar, you’d cry and then she’d hand you to me and you would settle right down.
You’ve always been my buddy and I will always love snuggling with you. I’m sad your days as an “only child” while your big sister and brother are at school are ending but, oh my gracious, Cam, I cannot wait to see all the fun adventures you’re going to have as a big SIX year old in kindergarten!! Our snuggle days will always be my favorite. I love our lunch dates and our adventures together. You are so funny and so smart and so sweet. I’m so thankful God chose me to be your momma.
The first words I ever spoke to you before I even saw you… “Happy birthday, baby. I love you.” I love you so much, my sweet baby. You just don’t even know.