Dearest Jay,

Today you turn eight and unlike previous years I no longer feel the urge to apologize for the mistakes I've made on our journey together because this year you have shone brightly. You were that child, first born, who taught me to follow my heart and burn every parenting book. Although still sensitive you've mastered the ability to reason, building credible cases supporting your feelings. I hope you never lose touch with the ability to communicate your emotions. Especially in a house full of head strong sisters. Just remember "stubborn sisters make stronger brothers" it's like an unwritten Chinese proverb, or maybe Polish nonsense, or something. Sorry.

You find comfort in us. A peek inside your bedside drawer illustrates your hunger for memories made as a family. Beach sand, baseball ticket stubs, Mexican sea shells shaped as a mouse (your favorite animal), rocks from our beloved Metropark hikes, 3D movie glasses, the Statue of Liberty, a wrist band from a basketball game, the list continues and I pinkie swore to never clean the drawer out. I could never, Handsome. You spend so much time standing before the drawer, quietly moving items around, quenching your thirst for memories.

I don't think I ever told you that you were a late walker. Our pediatrician was alarmed when you were 16 months old and not walking yet.  She encouraged me to invest in "push toys" before seeking physical therapy intervention. I failed to tell her that I held you a lot. I hugged you close to my chest, ran to the nearest store and purchased a plastic red shopping cart. Red is still your most favorite color today. At home you filled that red shopping cart with beloved possessions. The very next day you took your first steps pushing that red cart, filled to the brim with trinkets, all around our house.

It's safe to say that you are a hoarder.  A little man who finds comfort in memories.

You seek comfort.  After watching "Hook" during one of our recent family movie nights, I asked "what's your happy thought?"  Without skipping a beat you replied first before the stubborn sisters and said "My happy thought is cuddling in your bed."  That's what you wanted for your eighth birthday... a bed as comfortable as mine and your fathers suitable for cuddles.  Not sure how many eight-year-olds in the world are sleeping on Egyptian cotton 800 thread count sateen sheets draped over a white goose feather bed pad but you are worth it.  It beats any Nintendo game, in my book.

Blue Mousie and Baby Dog.

Your dream is to farm (with Lola) and take care of animals (with Fifi) and have a dental business (with your Father and Grandfather) on the side.  In your spare time you would love to design water parks (with me) so we can invent the biggest  baddest water slide in the world and make two-thousands-and-ten dollars.  "We can charge much less then local swimming pools and people will come to us!"  Always the business man, resembling the ambitious Dziadek, your plans for the future are heart warming as they include everyone you love.

Where ever your path will lead you in life I will always be two steps behind cheering you on.  We've come a long way, you and I.  Today instead of apologizing I thank you for making me the mother I am.  Happy birthday sweet Jay.

Forever yours,

Sweet mousie Mama.