Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Tunca Tunca Tunca

I haven't forgotten about my younger son's birthday. Tunca turned 7 this summer. The below post was written sometime late June, not "on" his birthday, and seems as though I failed to post it somehow. I've added some things to the end.. So here it goes...

I know my brother will get on my case about writing yet another sappy post but hey, it's my blog and I can make it as sappy as I want (though I've realized that it's quite hard to type sappy. Sappy. Hmm. I guess you get used to it).


Happy birthday babe!

I am so proud of the way you are growing up to be such an incredible man. Pushing and shoving your way though all the difficulties you face, the way you crack us up with your sense of humor, how different your mind works from all of us (you are probably the _then_ only 4 year old who dreamed of money raining down on him when his mother told him to think happy thoughts) wipe your tears and hold your cries and move on, urge yourself and strive so hard... for everything.

I love it that you are so cuddly, that you always hold my hand whether we're crossing a street or not, that you do so many things not because I tell you so, but because you talk it out, to yourself, make a deal, with yourself, and do it, because you yourself decide that it's the right thing to do. You have wisdom, though I would appreciate if you stopped taking that left sock off your foot and leaving it places. No idea where that habit came from, but you've been doing that since you were 8 months old, and it's getting really hard to try and match socks now and I don't want you to go to school with mismatched socks.

I want to talk to those mean boys who threaten you, scare those who bully you, and make fun of those who ridicule you, yet you are so brave, and you always tell me that you will handle things yourself, even if that means being pushed around or threatened or ridiculed. Thank you for not getting me involved.

I love the way you love animals, and wonder how on earth you became so disgusted with snails. I love the way you talk to ants, and give them names, and pretend to run into the same ones all over the world.

I love you, I love the way you love your family, and I will always be proud of you, I promise.

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