You turned five today and I have absolutely no idea what to say about that. It happened so quickly, but at the same time I watched you grow a little bit at a time, until you woke up this morning and shouted, “I’m five!” While I welcome your growing and aging, it still knocks the wind out of me.
There’s so many things I could say to you. So many different ways to tell you how you’ve changed my life. You’re my thoughtful one. The one who sits with me, thumb in your mouth, blanket in your hand, curled up in a tiny ball.
Maybe that’s why it’s still so unreal. While I converse with you as if you’re a kid ready for school, you still fit into the most perfect, tiny little ball of Luca, and when you do that, I feel as if you’re still my snuggly little baby. My crystal clear, could see forever in them, blue eyed boy.
It’s a hard spot to be in, the second child. Especially with being so close to Claire in age. While you may only be a year and a half behind her, she’s virtually left you in the dust with having started school. And I know that while she still plays with you when she’s at home and invites you to join her when she’s near her school mates, it’s hard. I get that.
I’m a second child, too.
We’re always playing catch up.
But know this, buddy – you don’t have to. There are so many ways that you’re beyond Claire’s level. You have a passion for books. And while your reading isn’t like Claire’s, you understand books. You don’t just hear the words or read them, you internalize them. You tell me what you just read, and continue on to tell me what you think might happen next. Your idea of fun is sometimes sitting in your quiet room with Lego instructions and your boxes of Legos. And when you construct something that says for ages 6-9, you proudly show me what you have built, by yourself, at the age of 4.
You’re a smart kid, Luca. And I don’t mean that in a 2+2=4 kind of way. You get it. You legitimately get it. I’m not sure if that’s a trait of second children, but where Claire has to study and be reminded of, you inherently understand things. Common sense, street smart, whatever you want to call it, you have it.
You have so many gifts, Luca. So many. You listen, and imagine, and create. Don’t ever stop. If someone says to you, “Why do you do that?” you tell them your reasons, “Because it makes me happy.” Do what makes you happy. Because there will be times, I know this to be true, that growing up in a house full of girls will wear on you. And they will tell you to do this, or they’ll tell you to do that, but all you have to do is close your door and create and imagine and build. Block out the outside world, if only for a moment, and remember that you are one incredible guy. Aside from how beautiful you are on the outside, you are sweet, and calm, and bright.
Since day one, you’ve been my bright spot on sometimes the most foggy of days. You’ve pulled me through some tough times, but in those times, all I needed was your smile and reassuring eyes to tell me that it was going to be okay – and it was. You have made a lot of things better.
So many things.
Thank you for being my little boy.