To my dearest Nat,

YOU ARE FOUR! How did we get there so fast?

I can barely believe that my last baby, the one that’s destined to never grow up in my eyes, growing up. You’re almost as tall and heavy as your sister. You’re quite the chatterbox that you are and the funny bone of the family. I’ve found you singing and shaking your bum in the shower, laughing insanely like there’s not a care you have in the world (with that infectious laughter of yours) and making crazy machine gun sounds with your mouth and pretending that you are Ninjago / Transformer / Spiderman / Hulk / Batman / Green Lantern and hero of all heroes.

Boy, do you play like a boy, for sure.

You are balm to my soul and I know I’ve said it a million times but I’ll say it again – the apple of my eye. You make me throw all rules out of the window and become a Mama who helplessly breaks into baby-talk when she’s never ever believed in it nor done it with your older siblings.

Yes, this is your superhero ability, sweetie pie munchkin.

On your birthday, I hugged you tight and teared and asked for a hundred of those “true love’s kiss”. You must be wondering, whatssup with Mom, she’s gone mad on my birthday, making me eat cake twice and singing me the birthday song again and again and asking for hugs and kisses every single minute. Truth is, I am going through my rite of passage at a parent – letting you grow up one year at a time. And reminding myself that next time this year, you’ll grow taller, heavier, bigger, smarter, cooler and more of a superhero than you already are this time this year.

And I can’t handle it yet.

So baby boy, can I just say it again – here – which I know someday you’d read, that I love you to the moon and back and you’re the reason why my heart turns to mush every day.

Because it’s just such a happy, happy thing to be your mommy, and I wish to baby you forever.

Happy Birthday, Son. I’m glad I have you at four for a year.

Love,

Mama