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I was looking for a photo tonight, deep in the archives of my computer, and I stumbled upon these pictures of you, my once-upon-a-time three year old boy.
Your hair is so blond and fine, your cheeks still round and chubby.
You are beautiful. I can’t take my eyes off your perfect, cherub face.
But looking at the photos, you almost seem like a little stranger. It was only three and a half years ago, but there is so much I can’t remember…
What were our days like back then? I have vague memories of a boy in perpetual motion, and of feeling exhausted and overwhelmed.
Mostly, I just remember being in love with you. From nine months before we met until now, I have been totally in love with you.
I plead with God to let me be with you as you grow up, and yet I don’t want you to grow up so fast.
Every stage of your life has been incredible. It has been challenging at times, but each age and stage was precious and wonderful
I adore you. I adore being your mother. I wish I could remember every delicious moment.
Now, you are closer to seven years old than six.
You play video games and go to school. You carry your baby sister and pour glasses of milk (if the jug isn’t too full.) You read books and trade Pokemon cards and play the piano.
And everyday you make me laugh out loud.
Slow down son. Stop growing up so fast.
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