Dearest Danjo,
Today you turn four years old.
This means that I have survived four years under the tyranny of Danjo. It’s been an honor to be your subject, I mean servant, I mean mother.
From the moment you were born you’ve commanded attention, affection, an audience. You have us wrapped around your little fingers with your wit and charm. You are a master in the art of flattery and seduction.
You still come to my bed in the middle of the night from time to time. You still stay up as late as humanly possible. You still won’t eat any form of fruit or most forms of vegetables. You still ride in a stroller. You want to be held at the most inopportune times. Some days it feels like you’re constantly touching me.
You can be fickle and mercurial. Your highs are high and your lows are low. Your temper runs hot. But, an instant later you can be the sweetest and most gentle child there ever was. You can be empathetic and endearing. You are funny and a flirt.
Life with you is not easy. It is a (thoroughly euphemistic) adventure.
It’s been frustrating and I’ve yelled and cried and begged and pleaded. And that’s just this morning when you were (not) putting your shoes on.
And if you’ve read any parenting blogs before, you know that I have to continue the narrative by saying that for every bad moment there have been a million and a half good moments. That number would not be entirely accurate, but we’ll go with it.
There are the jokes you tell where we’re not quite sure what you’re saying but we all laugh hysterically because you are laughing hysterically.
There are all the times you tell me that “your body” feels like eating chocolate or some other thing your body is currently telling you to do/not do/eat/play/etc. Which reminds me to listen to my body.
There are the morning cuddles you insist upon that stop me in my rush to take the dog out, get breakfast on the table, get coffee in my body.
There are the still lifes of Little People, plastic dinosaurs and crumpled paper that you leave around the house, inviting me to stop by and take a look. Then yell at you to clean up.
There are the booty-shaking dance breaks you take in the middle of the house and for no reason at all, reminding us that life is too short to, well, not take dance breaks.
There are the impromptu concerts in the car, in the bath, at the kitchen table--your sweet, soulful voice filling our ears.
There are the unsolicited hugs and kisses and “I love you’s” that make me wonder what I did right, what I did to deserve your outpouring of affection.
And there are those twinkling eyes that make me wonder what you’re up to and where you hid the body.
You keep me on my toes and at my wit’s end. You boggle my mind and defy all reason. You bring out the worst in me and the best in me. You have my name and my number. You make me pull out my hair and you tug at my heartstrings. You spin me round and keep me grounded. You suck the life out of me and you are the great love of my life. You bring me tears of frustration and joy. You beahvior makes me blush with embarrassment and burst with pride. You are like nothing I could have ever imagined--you’re worse and you’re better.
Four years ago, you changed my life. And I don’t know who I’d be without you.
Love you no matter what,
Mommy
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