The best rollercoaster.

Dear Son #1,

From the moment you broke my water three weeks before you were due to the moment earlier today when it was the end of the world you didn’t get a sprinkle donut, you’ve been keeping me on my toes. Your fierce independent nature and severe stubbornness can fill me with pride in one moment and dread in the next—with each outburst it’s a coin toss—will it be one of excitement or epic meltdown? You feel your emotions so strongly (yes, like me, I can’t blame Daddy on this one) and while sometimes it can be so exhausting for both of us, it is also very thrilling. Your energy is contagious and your imagination is literally out-of-this-galaxy. If you’re not making me cry with your 13-year-old-going-through-puberty-mood-swings, you’re making me laugh with your impersonations, one-liners, and jokes that only you could make funny. I love asking you what you want to be when you grow up because it’s always a toss up between a ninja or an artist. Maybe you could be both?

What makes things tough is that for some people it’s hard to look past the meltdowns and the bursts of anger and frustration to see the amazing boy you are. One particular stranger was able to see you for this boy recently at the playground and I want to share the story with you.

We arrived at the playground on a sunny day during the summer time and as per usual you all fan out like military men to your favourite apparatuses. After much yelling at each other to play with one another, you find your grooves—playing with each other, by yourselves, or find a victim to boss around. On this particular day you zeroed in on a little boy (maybe a year-and-a-half) and his mom playing by the miniature digger in the sand. I watched you cautiously, unsure of your intentions, but you got down to his level and started to play with him. As I attempted to divide my eyeballs in three different ways—making sure Alexander wasn’t peeing on a slide, William wasn’t getting stuck at the top of the climbing frame and that you weren’t encroaching on precious mother/son moments—I saw the mother’s face noticeably relax as the little boy became very engrossed in playing with you in the sand. After about 45 minutes it was time for them to leave so you waved bye and ran off to go terrorize your brothers. The mother came over to me and asked me if you were my son. While briefly contemplating whether to deny it or not (kidding!), I said yes…

“Oh he was so wonderful with my son!” she said. “He hasn’t been very good with other kids as he was born during Covid and this is the first summer we’ve been interacting with other kids. He usually sticks to me like glue but this is the first time he’s been comfortable and opened up to another child. So thank you to your son, he’s made such an impact to us today.”

While trying not to burst into a teary, snotty mess in front of this woman, I thanked her and looked over at you and your brothers fighting over a pinecone. I shook my head and smiled, happy that someone could witness such a beautiful side of you. Because that’s what you are. You may be loud, impulsive, and emotional some times, but you are also beautiful, kind and loving.

Today you are turning seven-years-old. You have informed me that you are now seven therefore you know everything and no longer need to go to school.

Good luck with that boy.

I’m so proud to be your mom and I want you to know that I love rollercoasters. With you I’m on the most terrifying, exhilarating, unpredictable and fun rollercoaster ever, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Happy Birthday Pieter Boy.

Love Mommy,


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