I started writing Elle a birthday letter last year when she turned 5, baby Ever will have a more complete set of letters.  One big plus (of the few) he will get for being the second child.  Without further ado…

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Happy birthday baby boy,

n

I’m baffled by the idea that you are a year old and my C-section scar is still sensitive (haha).  A “TMI” way to say that it all feels so fresh, like I just brought you home from the hospital.  You are a far different baby than I brought home, much more handsome.  The dark eyes turned a lovely shade of “we still don’t know what” grey, green, or blue, depending on the day and what you are wearing.  I fall more in love with you every day, and I already hate your future girlfriends (just kidding, kind of).

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You make my everyday busy life much more difficult. Even simple things are tougher, like dropping your sister off at school or getting out of the car at the post office, feels time consuming and somewhat laborious. However, when I perch you on my hip, and when you smile at me and everyone around you, you feel like the fanciest, most precious, best looking accessory that I can never leave home without.  I also enjoy our moments alone at home. I like you in just a diaper, watching while you roll around on my “dream sofa.” The sofa that I’m sure you will finish off, as your sister has already begun the destruction process, but no “dream sofa” compares to my “dream children” that I never knew I needed so badly. 

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There are a few things I know you love for certain. You love your daddy, and you light up when he comes home from work. You adore your sister’s toys, and I can already foresee the fights.  You love food, like real food, not the baby stuff.  You love the Disney “Zombies” movie your sister was obsessed with when you were only a few months old. She’s past it, but you can watch it for hours. Lastly, you are obsessed with that damn “Gummy Bear” song that drives me nuts, and you can listen to it repeatedly, just like your sister did when she was your age.  Which brings me to the end of my letter and the “Gummy Bear” themed birthday party I’m planning…

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I really didn’t want to throw you a party because unfortunately you were born in the dead of summer, and it’s so very hot, but I am.  I know you probably won’t remember any of it, and you will sleep through most of it, but I want you to look back on the photos and videos and know how very much you are loved, and know that your mom is all about celebrating the ones she loves (including herself sometimes).

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I love you pinche chamaco guapo, even if you hate my smooshy kisses and even though you learned to say “Bertha” (my receptionist’s name) before “mom.”  I can’t wait to watch you grow up, but if you want to take it slow, I’m down with that!

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Love you, Mom (not Bertha LOL)

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