I know it’s a cliché; kids grow up way too fast, time flies when you’re a parent, turn around and next thing you know they’re grown up, etc. etc.
And although it is an overused expression, here’s something you might not know if you aren’t a parent: It’s absolutely true. They grow way too fast, even when they’re going through some phase (like, say, the “pull-down-his-pants-and-pee-in-the-playground” phase) that you desperately wish would pass. NOW.
That picture of the Bunker Monkey as a baby was taken when he was a few months old (I think he was 3 months; yes, I know he was big, but hey, he was 11 pounds at birth, so he had a pretty good head start). The one below was taken this summer:
See what I mean? Yeh, time flies. So since you’re a big 6-year old boy, Bunker Monkey, I’ll skip all the mushy stuff and post a grown-up-boy birthday wish for you:
HA! Just kidding! See, that’s one of the awesome things about being mommy. I get to be as mushy as I want. It’s one of the things that make those 24 hours of labor alllllll worth it:
Dear Bunker Monkey,
Happy birthday! I know you’re a big 6-year old guy, and probably think you’re too old for this kinda stuff, but you’ll never be too old for us to tell you how truly amazing you are. You’ve changed all of our lives in ways we would never have imagined six years ago. You’re funny, smart, sweet, and about a thousand other things all wrapped up in one; we’re so proud of the person you’re becoming, and we will always love you (yes, even when you do things like draw on the walls). You’re an awesome little guy, and we can’t wait to see what next year brings all of us!
Love,
Mom and Dad
P.S. No, this does not mean you are allowed to draw on the walls now. Put down the marker.
P.P.S. See, I told you that you weren’t going to be 100 today (I’ll explain tomorrow).
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Happy Birthday, Bunker Monkey!
PS: If you’re really going to be an artist, you want to use PAINT on the walls, not markers. Trust me.
Happy Birthday, Bud. While I didn’t have to bear the pain of labor, my fingers took a beating. One piece of advice.. when your wife is going through labor, offer only ONE finger to squeeze. Any more than that will be painful.
Yes, time has flown since they told me to look and all I saw was a little blue/green alien head poking out of Mommy’s abdomen. (They could have waited a minute longer to tell me to look). My eleven pound bundle of joy brought tears to my eyes. I’ll admit it, your Dad did cry once. If only those nurses that were so amazed at you size could see you now. Tonight, you cried for an hour trying to weasel your way out of going to sleep. It is not so cute any more.
All in all, I wouldn’t trade you for the world. You make me laugh. You make me proud. You are my boy. Someday, you are going to hear all the stories & you’ll be embarrassed. I’ll probably tell those stories when you bring home some girl from college. I will tell your story just as my Dad told mine. You’ll be embarrassed, yes. But you’ll never know just how proud I am of you.
I love you, Bud. Happy 6th Birthday.
Dad
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