Max is SIX

Six years ago this boy made me a momma. I keep thinking every year that I will stop being sad when he gets older. That each year is just a milestone and the next one won't feel that way. But may because he's the oldest, that just isn't the case? Maybe he is just leading us all into different age brackets each year, maybe it's because he is the one who is the first to be *insert age here* so this is always new territory.

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Things I want to remember: You are the closest thing to a morning person in our house, but I still have to drag you out of the bed every morning. You love to help me. You pushed the buggy through Walmart a few days ago, loaded the groceries onto the conveyer, and were so polite to the other customers and the employees. Your kind heart makes mine sing. You love sweet stuff, but keep it simple. You picked a cone of mint chocolate chip ice cream instead of the fancy birthday sundae with chocolate syrup and whipped cream and sprinkles and a cherry. You say I cook the best food (which is funny because I really can't cook very good). You just got a "silver tooth" a few weeks ago, and you have been showing it off to everyone. Birthday wishes? A blue baseball glove and a new bat, and anything with dinosaurs. You read your homework books without much help, and you go out of your way to make sad people happy again. A week or so ago, you told me to "please stop" calling you Bubby because you are big now. You can eat your weight in eggs or pizza. Baseball is your favorite, and so are your brothers. We love you SO much.