My darling son,

You turned 8 years old today and I don't know how that happened. When did it happen? I remember clearly carrying you in my tummy and I swear that was just a couple of years ago. I've been here watching you grow up but it just does not seem like 8 years have passed us by. Not eight. Definitely not 8 years.

You came in last night for a quick snuggle and I let you sleep beside me for an hour before I moved you to the little bed. I didn't want to move you because I still love to snuggle beside you while you are sleeping, but I do know that I need to move you.

You are a wonderful brother to your little sisters. So gentle with the little one. Taking the time to always help her and play with her when she asks you. You have made your sister's transition to full day school so much easier by playing with her at recess and smiling at her when she passes you in the hall. I love to watch how much your sisters absolutely adore you.

You light up a room when you walk into it dear boy. You really don't walk too much though. You are jumping or hopping along your merry way most days. Stopping to give me a hug or a kiss at almost every passing. I hear from you no less than 100 times a day how cute I am and how much you love me! I will always say it back to you. It's our little thing you know. You are amazingly happy and I rarely see you without a smile on your face. This makes my heart swell because I must be doing something right.

At school you have been succeeding past my greatest expectations. You study hard and are a great example to your peers. You are a good Christian boy and can recite many scriptures now. You are teaching your sisters about God and Jesus and is a manner that is worthy of God's love. Your teachers are proud of your hard work but still feel that you are lacking in maturity. I fear, my son, this is my fault. In fact, I know this is my fault.

I love you so very much and want to protect you so very much from all the "bad" stuff in the world. Because I am overly protective and neurotic, you are immature. But I am okay with this. I love the fact that you are still a little boy and not mature beyond your age. There are many, many things that you are not aware of, that make you naive. But I love the fact that you are still innocent.

I love that you ask me each night after I read to you. "Will you lay with me Momma" Even though you know that I won't on most nights. And not because I don't want to. Because if you only knew how much it breaks my heart to say not tonight and walk out of your room . . . But because I have too, so you can grow and mature.

But today you looked right at me, hours before bed and you asked, "Momma, will you lay with me tonight, it's a special day, it's my birthday". And I said, 'Yes, dear son, I will lay with you tonight on your special day'.

And I did and I held you until you were deeply sleeping and I gently lifted you out of my arms and covered you as you smiled sweetly in your sleep. I kissed your sweet cheek and whispered 'I love you so much in this whole wide world'. I know that in a couple of hours you will be by my side whispering "momma, can I sleep with you" . . . and I will let you (of course), because it will still be your special day.