A Letter To My Son On His 7th Birthday

Dear Ashagre,

I can't believe it has been one whole year since your last birthday already (despite the fact that I've been helping you count down the days and calculate the months until your big day for the past twelve months). As I sit down to write you this letter, I notice that it is harder this year than last. It's something about our relationship; it seems to have grown into the realm of the indescribable. I am no longer learning how to be your mommy; I am your mommy. You are a part of every molecule of my being. Words cannot describe it. It just is.

A few weeks ago you and I sat down to watch some video from the first time we met in Ethiopia. I don't know who was more shocked - you or me. You have changed so much. You have morphed from a small, reserved and timid little boy to a strong, tall (the tallest in kindergarten last year) and confident bigger boy. Our little boy that shied away from soccer at the orphanage and couldn't climb a play structure at the playground when he came home is now one of the top baseball players on his team (despite being the second youngest player) and capable of swinging casually from the monkey bars for hours (or at least until the blister on your hand inevitably pops). Just today at tennis, after a two week break, you showed up and destroyed the lesson. It's obvious your tennis coach has his eye on you after just six or seven weeks.

Your transformation has not just been physical. Your confidence has also grown immensely. Just the way you carry yourself in the world is night and day different from last year. Last month you strolled ahead of Daddy and me on the beach. You had your new sunglasses with Ethiopian colored stripes and retro-California tank top on; your locs had recently been tightened, and your deep brown skin glistened in the bright sun. Your daddy summed it up best, "Man, what I wouldn't give to be that boy right now. Look at him. He owns this beach. He is going to have it so good."

Don't worry, I know that you can still be unsure of yourself and are a very sensitive boy too. You still need us to be your biggest cheerleaders and your softest critics. I am the first to recognize that you haven't settled into your new found confidence completely yet, and I am dedicated to helping you embrace it more completely as time moves forward.

You are newly confident, but you are not arrogant. You wear your open and loving heart on your sleeve. I can't tell you how many people have had a hard time expressing to me just how sweet you are. Fortunately, I'm your momma so I know exactly what they are trying to communicate. You are one of the most affectionate and snuggly boys I know, and I dread the day that you won't spontaneously and lovingly give me huge hugs and kisses no matter what public location we might happen to be in. You are a sensitive and thoughtful friend, gentle and encouraging to younger kids, but unafraid to play with the bigger kids too. Just today I found myself unable to pull away from the parking lot after I dropped you at summer camp because I was so enjoying watching your excitement as you struck up a game of kicking a ball against the wall with an older boy at your camp.

If I had to pick two words to describe you, I would choose balanced and joyful.  You have this uncanny ability to maintain a place of easy, go-with-the-flow energy at nearly all times. Your even and open being often reminds me to take a deep breath, relax, and smile - something we all know your momma could do more often. Sure, you get hyped up and have a lot of energy, but that's just your other predominant personality trait shining through. How can one not get hyped up when there is so much in the world to be joyful about - fast cars, a juicy piece of melon, the garbage truck picking up the trash on Tuesday mornings, movies, legos, a new whiffle ball to hit over the neighbor's fence, an evening bike ride before bed - all of these things delight you, and you wear your joy proudly unchecked in your huge grin and smiling eyes (highlighted by the occasional happy dance).

Your dad and I spend a lot of time dreaming about what you will become one day and delighting in the repeated opportunity to discover yet another one of your yet unknown to us talents - talents which we can take little credit for but are prideful of nonetheless. The possibilities for your future seem endless, but we know one thing: whatever it is, you will be great. On those evenings, those evenings when we sit around after tucking you cozily in your bed grinning from ear to ear with pride reserved only for the parents of such a special boy, I can't help but remember your first parents. I know they are just as proud as your daddy and me and love you just as much; I can feel it in my heart.

So here's to you little man. Your daddy and I feel so fortunate to be your parents and we can't wait to see what surprises and accomplishments this next year will bring. Happy 7th birthday Ashagre!

Love Mommy