And Now We Are Six

 Dear Gus,

You turned six on April 3, but I have only just found the time to write you this letter. It's been a busy month, and getting to the computer isn't as easy as it was before The Bean started walking.

 

We're all about the celebrations in this family: you had cake with Nana and Cheez, cake at Nanny's house with your cousins, and then cake with Chuck E. Cheese and your other cousins in NC. Maybe that's overdoing it, but there is no shortage of people who love you and want to be there for all your Big Events.  As long as you're around to give us a reason, Gus, we will be around to help you eat the cake. That's what families are for.

 

What can I say about the past year? You've gotten taller, faster, more freckled and more opinionated. The freckles kill me--sometimes we pretend you're a cupcake and they're your chocolate sprinkles. You are incredibly handsome (or, in the words of Zoolander: "Really, really ridiculously good looking.") You are becoming an Impossible Smartass with a fabulous sense of humor. You are intelligent, gregarious, and articulate. I love the way you always use the biggest word when you're trying to explain something.

 

You started kindergarten last fall, and you have amazed us all with what you're already capable of.  Just last night you were reading to me from Beatrix Potter's The Tale of Tom Kitten. You are not daunted by the size of a word and will gamely attempt to sound out even the longest--and usually you get them right. You love books almost as much as I do, and that's a lot. Almost as much as you love ice cream.

 

You quickly advanced to the highest reading group at school, and so wowed your teacher with your writing skills that she asked you to participate in the Young Author's Competition. You came up with quite a tale about a Chinese detective and a brown-eyed talking bear. Together they solved the mystery of the evil witch with the help of some magic celery. I am so proud of you, Gus. I'm happy that we can share this, when we butt heads on so many other things.

You continue to be a good big brother, though Will and Superbaby clearly annoy the hell out of you. Trust me, I know how it feels to just want to be LEFT ALONE, ALREADY. But I also know that there are going to be times in your life when you're going to be so happy you have them, those annoying little brothers. Someday you will realize that who you are is inextricably tied up in how they have shaped you.

 

It's been a huge year for you, what with the learning to read and the learning to write and the learning to ride a bike without training wheels. You are changing faster than you ever have, and I wonder what could possibly be better than watching you grow up. I love you, my first, impossible, thoughtful, sensitive, imaginative, contrary boy.

 

Love,

Mom

 

Comments

[Marnie]

What's the emoticon for crying? Whatever it is, that's what I have to say about this.

[seadragon]

Hi - I found your blog a while ago, through my husband who went to college with your husband (and our one-year-olds have either the same birthday, or one day off). Just wanted to say that this was a beautiful post and that wow, he really, really is ridiculously good looking.

[mamadaisy]

oh, is there nothing better in the world than that last picture?

i can't believe it's been six years. gus, it's so nice to have known you all this time. Happy late Birthday!

[mary]

You have become quite the blogger Marge! I am so impressed! I hope you become very popular. You are a wonderful writer.

You boys are are all adorable! I wasn't aware you had the third yet which shows you how long it's been since I looked in on you. I'm pleased to see all is well. Praise God and congrats!

mary

[sharon]

When I read the title to this I thought you were knocked up again.