He knows he’s my rainbow baby. He understands what that means, the weight of it. The joy he brought and what makes him special. And now, at 7 (SEVEN??!! How is he 7??!!) he’s still quite the rainbow.
He’s also the storm that comes before. It can come out of nowhere, the quick moving emotion of dark clouds forming. The wind circling as his tears come in big wet formations. And when he’s ready, which is thankfully pretty quick, his smile is toothless and accompanies the laugh that brings that sunshine.
I don’t know the best way to raise a 7 year old boy. Especially one that is as sensitive as Sam is. But I believe we will figure it out through a series of mistakes, trials, and storms over the years. I think I’ll learn as much from him as he will me. I hope to anyway.
This next year will be a big one for us. You’ll be a big brother again. I’ll be distracted with a new baby and will probably struggle to share my time equally. You’ll start school with Bo riding the bus for the first time. But you will be such a help. You always are. Willing to get things that are needed or let me close my eyes when I have a pregnancy migraine. You can’t wait to snuggle your baby brother. Just the other day, as we waited for the bus you said, “I can’t wait to snuggle the baby! He’s going to be so soft. I bet he’ll be softer than Snoop Dogg!” I bet you’re right Sammer. I remember thinking the same thing about you, about 7 years ago now.
I love you my kind, sweet, toothless boy. I hope your curiosity continues forever and that you never stop looking for answers to every question known to man. Be you. Be silly. Be proud. Be respectful. And have fun. Always.