My baby is five. And I realize that by him being five he is nowhere near my baby. But won’t he always be? Isn’t that how it works with the last kid in the family?
Five is a fantastic age with boys. It is like all the things I loved about having five year old girls minus the whining and princesses. He is doing many things on his own and showing so much independence but still starts every day by crawling in our bed and snuggling between us. He holds me hand when we run errands. His giggle is like some sort of drug.
He loves ninjas, superheros, Monopoly Jr., sushi and his doggie. He has a nightly date with his dad to wrestle and one with me to read Richard Scarry books. He adores his sisters (most of the time) and loves everything about school. He actually loves everything about everything. He is just a happy kid.
I feel like a post about Silas should be long but it really is simple. He is the perfect book end to our family. He just completes it. He is such a joy in our life and in the life of everyone who meets him. And if five is anything like four, it is going to be a pretty good year. Happy birthday buddy.