My dear Conor, my buddy,
Tomorrow, Easter Sunday, you will turn four years old. To think back and remember all we have faced the last four years, I couldn't think of a more special day to celebrate your birthday. It seems so fitting, like a re-birth of sorts. Great things are ahead for you.
This is the year you made the decision to give up your woobie...woobs. Just like when you decided it was time to use the potty, you threw your blanket in the trash with such confidence. I am a "big boy," you declared! So sure, so proud of yourself, just as we were of you.
I love your new found confidence in your speech, too. From the little stories you tell (that sometimes only I can understand), to how you now sing along to songs in the car, to how you spell your name. We are so proud of how hard you have worked over the last year, are proud of your progress, and excited about what the future holds.
I love how you have no reservations. You push the limits, literally "dance like nobody's watching", and approach everything in life like their are no consequences. One day, you are going to have to remind me that this can be a good thing. You are my wild.
I love how you throw your hands in the air, and yell, "I did it," after eating a meal, getting dressed, finishing a puzzle, or kicking the soccer ball. I hope you always recognize your accomplishments (big and small), even if one day this recognition is in silence.
It is hard to believe four years have passed since we welcomed you into our family, and I couldn't imagine what our lives would have been like without you in it. We love you, Buddy. Always.
Happy Birthday, Son.
Mom