eight

If I could go back 8 years and tell the mom of this little guy anything I'd say:
all those sleepless nights when you don't think he'll ever learn to sleep through the night? He will. It will take years, but he'll learn and he will go to bed without screaming too.

All those tantrums where he throws himself in the floor and bangs his head, all those times when you call him and he looks at you and runs the other way? He'll learn. It will take a little (or a lot) of instruction, but one day you'll call his name and you'll know that he will come. One day you'll say "No" and he'll accept it without dissolving into tears.

All those days that you worried if you were doing things right; all the time you spent wondering if he would ever turn into a respectable little boy? Stop worrying and wondering because he will, and you'll look back on those 8 years and wish you had just loved them for what they were - not wished them away. And oh yeah, as soon as you think you have him all figure out; he'll change and you'll start all over.

Happy birthday to our first-born. We love you more than we ever thought possible eight years ago.