Happy Birthday Johnny 2008

Dear Johnny,

Despite my begs and desperate pleas, despite my constant threats of wanting to put a brick on your head to keep you from growing, you defied me, you plowed ahead, you did what you were going to do against my wishes: you up and turned 5 today. 5 years old!!! As Daddy said this morning, "You've waited your whole life to turn 5," and you did it, Johnny, you did it!!

It's a grand day indeed, a milestone birthday in your life and in the life of our family. We no longer have babies around, your preschool days are seriously numbered and your official childhood (aka the school-age years) is just beginning. When we joined the pool earlier this summer and I saw you and Grace interacting with the other kids you knew from school, church, the neighborhood and even kids you'd just met, I had this thought that childhood for you two had officially begun. That might sound weird, like what's been going on for your five years of living and Grace's almost seven, a dress rehearsal for childhood? Not exactly. But seeing all ages of kids at the pool doing what kids do best--swimming, playing basketball and ping pong with their friends, standing in line at the snack bar ordering hot dogs and ice cream, skateboarding and riding scooters in the parking lot--and I guess the growing independence above all signified we've transitioned into a new phase in life, one that will continue for the next 13 years as you and Grace move through school.

You've developed an irrepressible spirit of wanting to do, play, and learn, and kids seem as drawn to you as you are to them. It's hard for me to say this, but you don't need me around as much anymore. You sometimes think you do, but you don't. Yesterday at the pool as you splashed with your best friend Christopher, you hardly noticed me sitting on the side talking with Grace. That's how it should be, me on the sidelines, watching and guiding with a little more distance. Even so, sometimes you're not ready for that yet. You've definitely got the physical strength, coordination and ability to hit, catch, and run in an organized baseball league, but you weren't quite ready to leave me on the sidelines this summer. Although you seemed to enjoy putting on your Rockies hat and t-shirt and grabbing your baseball glove, every Saturday you said you were "scared" and begged us not to make you play but instead allow you to sit with us in the dug out the whole time. We're learning too, Johnny. It's our first time having a boy on a sports team and not knowing whether the right thing to do is to make you get out there and play because your team is counting on you and you signed up for this, or stepping back and realizing you're only 4 after all, it's supposed to be fun, and you shouldn't be pushed into activities that you don't really want to do.

In about one more month, you'll be starting Kindergarten, and rightly or wrongly, Daddy and I have been pinning a lot to this important start date. "We'll pour your juice this time, but when you're in Kindergarten, you really need to start doing that yourself." "Kindergarteners need to keep up with their own toys." "No, I don't know where your shoes are. You need to look for them yourself. You're almost in Kindergarten, you know." And the biggest, most difficult one of all, "Ok, you can fall asleep in our bed today, but when you're in Kindergarten, you'll need to sleep by yourself in your room in your bed, like a big boy."

A couple of nights ago I'd finally had it. Five years of you either falling asleep with Grace and then coming in our bed, or insisting that you sleep with us from the get-go came to a sudden halt. And the truth is, if I had really wanted those sleeping arrangements to end, I would have worked on it long ago. Daddy and Mommy did things by the book the first time around, with Grace. By the time she was four months old, we let her cry it out in her crib and she was completely Ferberized in a matter of days. I was prematurely smug at our sleep training success and secretly looked down on my friends who regularly allowed their kids in bed with them past a certain age. They weren't trying hard enough, they weren't strong enough and disciplined enough, they were letting the kids make the decisions. Then you came along.

You came along on this day five years ago, only five months after your Grandmama died. I was dealing with those emotional wounds as well as the difficulties of caring for you and Grace while the incision on my belly healed. It did heal and we were managing as a family of four. Exhausted and desperate for sleep, after I nursed you in the middle of the nights, Daddy often took you out and slept with you where he could, on the floor beside you, sometimes with you even crawling on his back and sleeping for hours. He was trying to help me get the rest I needed. You were a different baby than Grace and we did what we had to do to get by.

We tried to Ferber you but maybe we didn't try hard enough. You definitely cried much harder and much longer than Grace ever did. The biggest difference though, is that you had to be nestled beside Daddy and me when you slept; you had to be cuddled, you had to be touching us. You loved that feeling and the truth is, we did too. I haven't outgrown that feeling five years later. It's still one of the greatest pleasures in life to wake up beside you with your increasingly longer arms and legs wrapped around mine in a tender embrace.

Just like you said you were scared going out on the baseball field alone, you said you were scared to sleep in your room alone. We talked about it for awhile and I asked you what exactly you were scared about. You then said you weren't exactly scared as much as you were lonely. I know, honey, but the time has come that you need to summon all of your newfound skills, independence, and courage and apply them to your sleep habits. Trust me, you'll be happier in the long run. We all will be.

And all along the way, I'll be on the sideline cheering you on, helping you figure out how to master this new big scary thing the best way I can. It's a wonderful thing being your mom and helping you figure out the world. And you know what? You're helping me figure things out too.

Love,
Mommy