Dearest Jeffrey,

Eight years ago today, you entered the world. Your family gathered in a circle around the bed, while you lay on my tummy, and I gingerly traced your coppery eyebrows. Tiny newborn perfection. Not only did you split my heart wide open, you brought faith raining down on my parched soul. You may never understand what that meant, but you changed my life.

From the first day, you were robust and had a lust for life that has moved you forward. Once, when you were learning to walk, a friend called you a “Mack truck in tennis shoes”- and it was perfect. You’ve always had your eye on the prize- whether it was jumping from your crib to get to mama’s room, or leaping from the top bunk with your Tinker-Toy wings, trying to fly.  Creative people seldom think things all the way through, and while that invites some insanity as your mama, it also makes me proud of your fearlessness.

Today, we are making a Lego cake, per your request. Grandma bought you a new bike yesterday, and you are out riding up and around the court right now, nevermind that’s it’s drizzling. For breakfast you sat at the head of the table, the first to eat from the new “Oh Happy Birthday!” plate.

We’re about to go pick up your buddy Zeke, then we’re heading the Chuck E.Cheese to get 100 tokens for $10- that ought to be enough for any kid to be happy…Happy Birthday, Sweet’ums. Mama loves you.

(I said it better here– and it’s all still apropos. Although, the shoes are now 5’s and pants are 10’s.)