|Let's stay crazy always.|
He used to cry when he got annoyed. Now he uses words like 'eeyu', 'yikes', 'yup' and 'nopes'.
He used to stare at me in wonder when I would tell him stories. Now he tells me, "Mama, don't say shit/damn. It's a bad word"
He used to gurgle when I would sing lullabies to him. Now he recognises songs by their prelude.
I used to hold and rock him to pacify his crying. Now he wipes my eyes if he sees me in tears.
Oh, he has grown up. And grown so soon.
He dances to Mama Mia with me. He tells me stories. He sings me songs. He fights with me, he argues.
He tells me, " Mama you've got it wrong. You don't know anything." And then, again, he tells me, "Mama, WOW, you are super"
He crafts with me and works my sewing machine like a pro, almost. (He remembers that I promised him two years ago that he can use my sewing machine when he turns five. He reminded that to me this morning.)
He makes me cry and he makes me laugh. He makes me feel like a goddess, and sometimes a demon. He makes me feel safe and then makes me worry like hell.
But he always has and always will make me feel awesome.
Love you, baby. And a very happy birthday to you.
PS. Please dance with me to Mama Mia always. Or till I turn 92.