Yesterday, you turned six.
Six! Six! Darwin, the years are creeping up a bit too quickly on me. Six!
We had your birthday party at the community center on Saturday, complete with indoor swimming. What happened no more than 20 minutes into the party?
You cracked your head open. Again. To the bone.
So you got your third set of stitches in your head.
You were a trooper through the whole ordeal of leaving the party early and sitting in the hospital for over four hours. But you're very adamant that we do not have another party there again.
I totally agree.
You are still totally ornery. And totally loving.
My always-little-Buddhist, you love to tell me how much you love this life (yes, this life) and how you're gonna stay here forever. Okie dokie, works for me.
You're really looking forward to being a big brother, and love that you're the only family member who's gonna be a little brother and a big brother at the same time.
This is bittersweet, you getting so big. But you have promised to always be my baby no matter how old and how big you get.
And I'm holding you to that.
Happy birthday Darwin!