He’s rough and tough, and rarely takes no for an answer. He has a mind of his own, is 3 going on 20, and scares me with the lack of fear he often displays.

Yet on the stairs yesterday, he stopped me as we reached the third step from the bottom and asked for a kiss. I was more than happy to oblige.

It was a brief moment in time where the world stopped just for us. Our noses touched and he grinned wide and grabbed my face with chubby hands. I hope we always have these moments. I wrote this for him…


I will always admire your sense of independence, your “No, mom, I’ve GOT it,” and your efforts to be the first to accomplish something.

I will always love that look of mischief written all over your face when you know you’ve done something you shouldn’t, or the wide-eyed astonishment in your eyes when you’re hoping a good excuse will suddenly pop in your head.

I will always need your silly goofiness, that unique personality that continues to shine through and can instantly put me in a good mood.

I will always deny but know better when someone says you have the feistiness of your mother, and secretly smile when you mutter “hmmmmppf” under your breath when you don’t get your way.

I will always want to run my fingers through your wavy blonde hair and be mesmerized by your piercing blue eyes that melt my heart, even when I’ve caught your hand in the bag of marshmallows one too many times.

Simply put, you are the balance in this family, the good at the end of a bad day, the laughter when I’m sad, and the energy when I’m tired.

You are my son, and I love you.