My dearest Collin Liam,
Ten years ago today, I was almost two full weeks past my due date in my pregnancy with you. I had tried quite literally everything I could think of to coax you out into this world, and you were content as could be staying where you were.
Some things haven’t changed much in ten years.
You still want to come along on your own time. You still maybe are a little bit pokey sometimes. You still don’t want to be without your momma for very long. In fact, you’ve told me you want to live with me until you’re older than 50. You are still almost always moving, bouncing around, making noise.
Lots of things have changed though. Your birthmark has gotten barely lighter but oh so much bigger. Your hair is long and a little unkempt most days. You have gotten so much taller, too.
This year, I’ll keep it short and sweet, because I have noticed lately you stop paying attention if I start getting too long winded.
Ollie Bear, I am proud of you. You’ve grown tremendously with your emotional and spacial awareness. You are learning to take pause when you’re becoming overwhelmed.
You have become so brave. You are so kind, especially to little children and those much older than you. You are incredibly smart, which we always knew, but have begun to focus even more in school and allow others to really see it too. You are wildly creative, especially in your play. I have loved watching you develop a deep friendship with your sister, and listening to the two of you play dinosaurs is so much fun. You have become quite an innovative problem solver, and increased in your scavenging skills, both outside and in our own cupboards.
I pray this year is filled with goodness beyond your wildest dreams. I pray you see the gold in yourself as others around you see it within you. I pray that you continue to be in touch with your beautiful, caring heart, and that patience and wisdom in tough circumstances continues to develop. I pray that you see your own prayers answered right before your eyes. I pray that you develop deep, lasting friendships. I pray that you never have a single day without a hug.
In the morning, shortly after midnight actually, you will be one full decade old. I can hardly believe it. Like is still the case, the night you were born, you decided you were ready to meet us and you came quickly and dramatically, as you often do when you’re ready to be somewhere or doing something now. You snuggled right up to me, like you still do, ten years later. You’ve loved hugs every day of those ten years, you know.
I’m so thankful you are mine, Mister Man.
You’re one of the best things that ever happened to me and I’m so glad you’re mine.
Love you, always and forever,
Mom
