From the moment of his birth, he brought light, hope and love.
He came, healthy and screaming, into this world and gave us the promise of future. As a tiny newborn, he wrapped our mourning hearts in a healing balm and showed us that that it was possible to always remember our stillborn son and still choose happiness and life. As an infant, we could feel his heart bleeding love for us and as he grew we realized that it bleeds that love for everyone around him, too.
This makes him such a sensitive, beautiful person.
Recently, I have noticed that the rate at which he bleeds that love is slowing down a bit. I think he's finding his footing and recognizing that he can look out for himself and make his own choices. His sensitive, caring, vulnerable side has been covered with a thin layer of self-confidence. This is wonderful. I work hard to help him build that confidence and feel triumphant for him when I see it grow. There is still much work to be done; my goal is to help thicken that layer until it shields him like a heavy blanket strong enough to protect him from the demons of his middle-school years and beyond (be they other people or himself), but soft enough to be able to feel the beauty and texture underneath. I believe he will be a beautiful, compassionate person throughout his life.
I looked at him playing in the waves the other day and saw the muscles in his back work with him to ride the waves. They're small, those cute little muscles, but they're bigger than they were and I know all too soon they'll be long and strong. A big, strong body to hold that beautiful personality? I think I'll love to see that.
But he's seven today. Seven years old and melting my heart almost every day. His eyes somehow have the ability to pierce me through like an arrow and speak to my heart in something so much stronger than words. Of course a mother loves her son, but I love him so. so. so. much. Just thinking about it gets me all choked up.
He's gotten into this habit of making us laugh. He's hilarious! The other day I was singing a (very awesome) song complete with clapping that went something like this, "Let's open the blinds, open the blinds, we'll open, open, open the blinds!" and instead of glaring at me with an embarrassed 'I can't believe she's my mother' look, he bounced up and down to the beat and bopped like a coordinated chicken all the way over to the nearest window. Of course, receiving such positive reinforcement, I continued my song, clapping and laughing, and Carson continued his dance until all the rooms were lit.
Plus, he's such a caring kid that all he does is laugh when Timothy spits up all down his shoulders and back (*giggle* Oh no! *giggle, giggle* TK's such a *giggle* cutie pie, Mom! Could you get me a *giggle* spit-up rag?). I worried a bit that his fierce devotion to his littlest brother would diminish as the baby grew, but I needn't have worried. It's just getting stronger. He cannot concentrate on anything - even his favorite movie - if Timothy is crying in his crib or fussing on the floor. It's a common sight to see the two of them cuddled together.
His birthday was awesome and simple this year. His excitement was palpable. It started with the requested cinnamon roll breakfast in bed. Carson, please always be that excited about a giant cinnamon roll. Life is full of wonderful things just. like. that.
We then watched the sun rise
and played with packing peanuts.
It wasn't long before we were all in our swimming suits, heading down to his favorite spot. The
He had a blast playing in the water, and I had fun playing with my new favorite toy: my underwater camera case. (LOVE, LOVE, LOVE it!)
(and, Miles was hilarious to watch with Carson's new Nerf gun... it requires some serious muscles, that thing!)
gawked at how adorable Timothy is,
sang happy birthday,
and ate cake while we laughed all the way through Despicable Me (seriously... how have I not watched that movie more than once in my life!?).
I went to bed happy that night.
Carson did too,
which is probably more important.
Happy birthday, my love.