Even though you are getting taller, smarter and more witty with your jokes, I can still call you Little Guy. I'm not sure at what age, I'll have to stop that, but when I see your smiling cheery face come down the stairs in the morning and walk up to hug me in the kitchen, I can't help but still think of you as "little". Yes, the Lego phase of all American Boys has struck this household like a plague. This is the process: he brings the box to either Dad or I, we go
thru the piece by excruciating piece while Reece does somersaults or pretends to help, then I follow step 1
thru a billion to make his creation, just to have him carry the thing upstairs and break off the wings, propeller and wheels. All accidentally, of course.
It wasn't a far stretch to make
Reecer Monkey, monkey cupcakes to bring in to Kindergarten on his birthday. When the teacher passed the monkey's out at lunch, little girls were hugging him and telling him they love him and his mom.
I'm
diming out Rick and his "blob" cake as he called it. He used 2 different size cake pans and then 2 cans of frosting to make this
Jabba the Hut like turd of a cake. Yes, that's Indiana Jones running across the top of it, probably afraid at any minute the trapdoor on the cake will let loose and he'll fall into the bowels of the chocolate.
Reece, I kept telling myself, your not going to grow up as quick as Emma, b/c your birthday misses the school cut-off and I had you with me at home for one extra year. But, I can't say that anymore and now as I realize from here until you are 18, I will only see you afternoons, weekends and summers. My gentle souled animal lover, quiet by nature, but yet all boy, who before I know it will be asking me not to hold his hand while walking him into school, not eat lunch with him as it's not cool to actually have a mom, or sit up in your room holed away listening to angry music and befriending strangers on
FaceBook. When I find the magic to stop you from growing up, don't think I won't use it. Happy Birthday Little Guy, I love you