"Perfectly imperfect"

Today, our son, our oldest child, turns 6.  I cannot believe it.  The time has just flown. It feels like just yesterday that we were bringing him home from the hospital:

Now, 6 years later, I cannot imagine our life without our son.

He has taught me so much about being human, being "perfectly imperfect" (I stole that from someone, though I cannot recall from whom): loving unconditionally and intensely to the point that my tears well up and he wonders why I am crying; feeling such passion for a little being; losing my patience; losing myself (for a brief time); feeling intensely sad/mad/happy/thrilled.

He has showed me that I cannot do everything all at once, that doing something well takes time, that doing something in an uninterrupted fashion will never happen again.

He has showed me that climbing UP the slide is WAY more fun than sliding down it.  He has showed me that singing at the top of your lungs is what you do when you wake up. Every. Single. Day.  He has showed me that every play moment with Legos deserves a soundtrack.  He has showed me that having a 6 year old buddy is pretty darn cool. He has showed me that your child doesn't have to look like you in order to BE exactly like you.  He has showed me that mowing the lawn is the MOST fun.

This kid has changed my life in innumerable ways, none of which I ever would have imagined. There are days when I want to protect him from the world, and other days when I want to shove him right in to it (only so that he knows how great he has it around here).

This boy is my heart.  I didn't give him life, but he gave me mine.  He has been in my heart all of my life, and when I held him that very first time in the hospital, I knew that we were meant to be mother and son forever and ever.  He is mine, and I am his, and I will always be grateful for that.