William Wyatt : 5 YEARS OLD!

Holy cow kiddo.  Today, you are five.  There are so many wonderful and amazing things that are ahead of you in your 5th year, that it sort of takes my breath away.  Even though you are my middle boy, sometimes I still think of you as my baby boy.  I think it's because you have allergies and asthma and get sick a lot.  I'm always worrying about you.  Even when you are a grown-up, I will always worry about you.

But.  YOU do not need me worrying about you because your life is moving fast.

Kindergarten is so close you can taste it.  We'll find out your teacher in a few weeks and we are hoping it's Mrs. Easton, the teacher that Elliott had in kindergarten. You are so ready for real school that when school actually starts in August, you might fly there.  I will, of course, worry that you'll smell something strange and throw up in your classroom, but hopefully that worry will never come to fruition.

Quinn and I will be sad to see you go to school.  You are our buddy and we might be a little lost without you.  There are days, when you are home, that you and I hardly talk to each other.  We just go about our business - me "moming" and you "Lego-ing".  Unless you need food or the TV turned on, you are completely independent.

You love to sing and dance.  You love the band the "arctic monkeys".  You love to go to the zoo, eat french fries and pizza, and could spend all day lying on the couch watching TV.  You are a great athlete, and for the most part, pretty considerate of others.  You are very conscientious of the outfits you pick, the shoe and sock combination you sport, and the height of your mow hawk.

This year in preschool has been interesting for you.  There is a kid named Braxton who has driven you crazy all year long.  He messes with your stuff, he touches and messes up your hair, and pretty much every day when you get in the car, you have stories of tormenting.  A couple weeks ago though, your teacher told me that you'd had enough with this kid and during play time at school, after he took a toy from you and wouldn't give it back, you hit him in the leg.  You got a lecture from your teacher, as did Braxton, but that was it.  I'm pretty sure your teacher was on your side, and though I don't condone hitting in the least (Braxton did hit you first), I was proud of you for sticking up for yourself.  And, we got french fries at In-n-Out on the way home.

You are an excellent truth teller and tattle tell.  Your desire to follow the rules, and be recognized for following the rules is pretty great and it always keeps you on the straight and narrow.  May it keep you on the straight and narrow path for your whole life, too.  Even if you started the fight that leads to blood and tears, and you come to tell me what Elliott did to you, you tell me what you did to him, too.

You don't scream and cry nearly as much as you used to and you've almost finished your t-ball season and haven't shed a tear.  Yeah!  You didn't even cry when you got your kindergarten shots, which was pretty impressive.

I'll tell anyone I know how lucky I am to be the mom to three great boys.  And though I love my boys equally for all their great qualities and traits, you are my boy.  You always have been and always will be.  Sometimes I get sad that I don't have a daughter, who, when we're all older, will go to target or on a late night diet coke run with me.  But, I think that I will always be able to bribe you with a Slurpee or french fries to go just about anywhere with me and for that, I will always be grateful.

Love you buddy.  Happy Birthday.