72 months

Six. Six. Six. I cannot believe you are six years old Sawyer. I remember so vividly the day you were born, and it couldn't possibly have been SIX whole years ago! Each of my children bring me such pride, such joy, and you. You are no different. My heart literally puffs out and swells when it comes to being able to call myself your mother. You are a gift, not just to me, but to the whole world. I have said this year after year, and I am not surprised that this year I say no different, but if only people saw the world through your eyes. It would most definitely be a better place. A place so full of justice and understanding, one of imagination and pure joy.

Even though I act like I don't like it, deep down inside I savor the fact that you are still so attached to your stuffed animals. Foxy still gets packed into every overnight bag or suitcase that is ever taken on vacation. He remains in the crook of your elbow each night when I come to tuck you in and make sure you've fallen asleep. And although you haven't changed through all these years in who you are, you have. You have come so far from the little boy that had such difficulty with change and transition. You roll with it now and things don't destroy you the way it used to. Kindergarten has brought such a level of comfort and routine for you. You have so many friends and at your teacher conference I was told that the only time you get emotional in class is if you feel misunderstood. You want to make your actions very clear so that no one takes an accident you may have done as malicious or purposeful. If you think you have hurt one of your friends' feelings you immediately become upset because you want to make sure they know how sorry you are.

This has been a year of firsts for you. Not only have you started school. Real school. All day long school. School where you pack your lunch school. But you lost your first tooth. You learned to ride a bike. You got your first buzz cut. You went to golf camp. Everything is new for you and you soak it up with such enthusiasm and joy. I wish I could have just an ounce of your zest for life. And to think your  whole soul is just brimming with that.

You write me cards. Just because. You don't let me see them until they are complete, but they usually go something like this, "dear mommy, i love love love love love you verry much. you are such a good mom and you do so much for me." I could write over and over again about how you were my child which really taught me how to be a mother. And that would be the truth. You still teach me how to be a mother. I'm not the best, but somehow you think I am.

A few weeks ago during our Family Worship we went around and each kid was asked to name their favorite quality of their siblings. When it was your turn you told us that your favorite thing about Greta is that she laughs at your jokes. I could've melted right there. A big puddle of mush. You love to make us laugh. You love to make us excited. You want for everyone around you to feel the heightened sense of joy that you feel all day. And the truth is you are the joy. You are the one that creates the smile on all of our faces. It's your laugh that makes us laugh. You are a joy to be around. You are a joy to love.

Our family would never be the same without you. Each day I look forward to what discovery you will make. What connections you come up with that all of a sudden brings understanding and order to your mind. I know that the years are going by faster and faster. It seems that I write these more often than once a year for you. But in all honesty, I can't wait to find out what the next year will bring. I love you and I love the person you are becoming. And I wouldn't want to slow that down for a second. Welcome to 6 my Soso.