What craziness possessed me to schedule our furniture delivery on my son's sixth birthday?
Needless to say it was an exhausting morning. I ran between our new house (still laying floors, by the way; the cabinets are sitting in boxes in the kitchen; and even though our renovations aren't going as quickly as we had planned, it's all coming together beautifully) and Aaron's parents' house (where we are still living) where I baked, sliced, and decorated for Gabe's birthday party.
Here he is -- the birthday boy -- blowing out the candles on his mountain/volcano cake. I'm not a great cake decorator. I don't have the necessary attention for detail ... or the patience. Gabe told me he wanted a chocolate cake with blue and green frosting. I made a chocolate pudding fudge cake and a bunch of blue and green buttercream frosting. After spending a few minutes slapping frosting on the cake, I realized it looked sort of like a snow encrusted mountain with lots of landslides. I added a few green tree-shaped sprinkles and white crystal sprinkles. Since I made it in a bundt pan, I made a volcano with red sprinkles out of the hole in the middle. It actually turned out pretty cool. (The picture doesn't do it justice, of course.)
Most importantly, Gabe loved it.
And it tasted pretty good too.
Here's my brand new six year old with his cousin, Josiah.
And here are three generations of Sonnichsen men: "Papa" Ben, my fabulous husband Aaron, and my sweet little big boy, Gabe.
Gabe received many cool toys, but he spent all afternoon after his party making his Lego Star Wars X-wing fighter with his daddy. Here he is wearing his new Star Wars Lego pajamas and holding the completed X-wing fighter. That's one happy boy.
I'm incredibly thankful for Gabe. This may sound trite, but I couldn't ask for a more wonderful son. He's sweet, thoughtful, affectionate, not to mention incredibly intelligent, absurdly handsome, irresistibly cuddly, and boundlessly energetic. What more could a mom want?
It's hard to believe that it's been six years since he lay in my arms at the hospital in Beijing. We slept curled up next to each other that first night. I couldn't bare to put him in his bassinet. I remember how aware he was of me, how he snuggled up close and adjusted his breathing to mine -- or did I adjust my breathing to his? I remember how I couldn't go to sleep because I was so busy staring at him.
And sometimes I still find myself staring and holding him and not wanting to let him go. He still runs up to me and wraps his arms around me. He tells me he loves me. He smacks me with kisses. Sometimes slobbery ones.
Though he's getting taller and running faster and reading books all by himself, he's still a little boy.
Happy Birthday sweet Gabe!