"Take a sad song and make it better..."

My little Segundo is 6 today.

My April Fool's baby.

His was the easiest labor, the easiest delivery, and probably the best story (We were rear-ended at a stoplight on the way to the hospital at 11pm. H was practically dancing with rage in the road, I have never seen him so angry. The poor teenage girls who hit us were too frightened to get out of the car. I just kept timing contractions; they were 7 minutes apart at the stoplight, and by the time I got to the hospital 6 blocks away, they were coming every two minutes. I slept through labor, all night, before he was born at 9am-ish, and when I pushed him out, he was so ready to emerge into this world that he practically hit the far wall.)

He looks like his dad, but with my fair coloring. He is my only baby to stay blond. He has intense blue eyes, and a sharp, pointy nose, and long legs, and he is beautiful.

He is sweet and steady and slowly beginning to feel his way through his world, dealing with his at times overbearing older brother, and his oh-so-charming younger brother. He delights in the baby. He is gentlemanly and kind; the gravitas he displays is beyond his years.

But he can laugh. Oh, he can laugh. He loves potty humor, and silly puns, and stupid knock-knock jokes. He was the only one intent on fooling me today.

He can be stubborn, even downright contrary. But he is merely testing the waters, as any healthy young child should do.

He is smart; his excitement when he figured out he could read was delightful. He is a dedicated artist, and an earnest musician. Watching his piano lessons this past year has been a joy. The way he squares his skinny shoulders and lays his fingers on the keys makes my heart clutch in my chest. He practices just about every morning, not only without complaint, but eagerly.

He will be the son who cares for me in my old age (should I be lucky enough to get that far). He will do it willingly and happily, and I pray I am never ever a burden or embarrassment to him. All I need to put a smile on my face is to picture him running out of school, flying down the steps and slamming into me, into my arms for a hug, with laughter and joy and love.

Oh, how I love him.
Happy Birthday, my sweet darling boy.
The day you were born was one of the happiest of my life.

*************
*"Hey Jude," The Beatles