Dear Max: Year 10

Dear Max

It’s finally come and gone. The day you’ve been looking forward to, dreaming of, and talking about for 364 days. That’s right. Yesterday was the best day on your calendar. Your birthday.  Some of us enjoy birthday week, but you’d really prefer if we celebrated birthday year. As in it’s your birthday every single day of the year. Which amuses me to no extent.

Birthdays are such a big deal in your little world. Like who needs Christmas, Disneyland or summer vacation when you can just have a birthday. Or tell someone else happy birthday. The yucky parts of your past make it so hard for you to remember even the most basic lessons your teachers teach you at school, but you never forget someone’s birthday. Ever. You cherish each person’s special day like it was your own.

Which also amuses me to no extent.

So this year on your birthday I can tell you what your first mama told me about the day you were born. You came at 3:50 AM, and you were a tiny little guy. It’s not much information, but it’s more than I knew about your special day last year. Maybe someday we will have more details about that cold winter night in northern Russia when you were so tiny and sweet in your first mom’s arms. But for now we’ll use our imagination.  

Happy birthday to my favorite outside playin-diving board jumpin-lego enthusiast-chatterbox of a boy. Hope your special day lived up to all the dreams that you had.



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