Birthday Boy

Huck turned six yesterday.


Impossible, it seems, that my big little man is more than halfway through his first decade. And impossibly wonderful that he is here after surviving a humdinger of a first asthma attack last fall, one that I am convinced his overall size and strength contributed to his pulling through and recovering with flying colors.

{Pardon me while I simultaneously knock on wood and whisper yet another prayer of thanks to God; I'll be tiptoeing in to check on him as soon as I hit PUBLISH.}

Huck has always, always, been my happy soul.

He laughed early, that huff-huffing baby laugh that freaked me out when I heard it on the monitor. I raced into his room to see him waving his arms and legs in his crib, his already chubby cheeks scrunched up and eyes wide as he watched his mobile animals go round and round. He couldn't have been more than a month old.

Such a simple joy, those silly black and white and red patterned animals dancing in the sky were, but finding joy in the simple things is Huck's hallmark.

Huck is an early riser and knowing this, I left his birthday present and a simple homemade card for him on the table Monday night before I went to bed. I heard his happy giggles as I jumped out of the shower on Tuesday morning. When I came down the stairs a few minutes later, he was standing under the Happy Birthday sign I'd made and posted for him above the kitchen entrance, the card in his hands.

"You made this for me?" Huck asked, blue eyes wide as he looked up at the sign and clutched his card.

I looked at the table; his present was yet untouched. And my heart melted for this fantastic mantastic little boy of mine yet again; how deeply the little things matter to him.

That he looked super-cute all decked out in his brand new Batman the Brave and the Bold dress up gear (with the always necessary utility belt) at the breakfast table was just icing on the cake.

Huck, you are and always have been a true gift from God. He has great plans for you in this world and I am privileged to have a front row seat as I watch them unfold.

I adore you, freckles. Thank you for being my boy.

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