X-Man 5

No, I don't have the scoop on the latest Wolverine feature--my little boy, my first baby is turning 5 today. I can't even believe that I'm writing that. I remember the first time I held him--all 3 1/2 pounds of him--like it was yesterday.

So here's my ode to my oldest child.

* You have the best laugh ever--somewhere between a snicker and a giggle, with some other nuances thrown in. Your shoulders hunch up and that crazy sound comes out and it always makes me smile.

* I love that when I take you to the candy store you are completely thrilled to pick out one tootsie roll. That when we go to Talbot's Toyland, you never complain about leaving empty-handed. That instead of asking us to buy you that super cool fire fighter helmet with the flashing light, you simply say "I'll save up my allowance for it."

* The way your mind works constantly amazes me. On the way to school yesterday you did your customary shut-down (due to your "no talking at school" policy) and said to me "Mom, my answer machine is broken." I replied "well, you still may need to ask some questions." Your rejoinder? "nope, that's broken too--there's a tube connecting the answer part and the question part so when one's not working the other doesn't too."

* And my all-time favorite, "Mom, Mr. Penis wants to do everything what I do, but he can't because he doesn't have opposible thumbs."

* I love that when I ask what your favorite food is you answer "tofu." And as weird as it is to have a kid who doesn't eat Peeps at Easter, I respect your position on not eating anything shaped like an animal. And your request that we not anthropomorphize your food (I'm talking about you, Mr. Hot Dog), because then you can't cook or eat it either.

* Did I mention your big, melty brown eyes? The twinkle in them? That spark of mischief that's been there from day one?

* And the maddening qualities, of course. Your insane stubbornness? Honestly, is there another child as strong-willed as you? I truly doubt it. And there's the really advanced level of selective hearing you have--or maybe it's not so selective. You told me the other day "Mom, I can't hear you when I'm busy thinking." At any rate, it's a quality you share with your father and it drives me crazy in both of you.

* Nothing pleases you more than "work" of some kind--whether it's shepherding a younger child through a new activity, hounding your baby sister while she careens through the world, or making one of your wild systems of tubes, wire and cat scratching posts. It's like watching a border collie on steroids.

* I love how you shake your little tushy to a really good riff of music.

* You seem to get the essence of people right away--not in so many words, but in your interactions I can see your assessment happening. And there's a special twinkle you reserve for especially funny women.

* Five years is a big chunk of change, and a whole lot of growth and transformation has happened in that time. But there's the essence of you that was there from day one--a tenacity I saw when you took out your breathing tube at ten days old. A combination of doggedness and caution that governed the way you approached a big milestone like walking. A sweet snuggliness that still pops up at bedtime. I love you, little man, and I'm blessed to be your mom.