Michael, your childhood has been so different from your siblings. You're kind of in a strange place. You're not the youngest, but yet, you are still like the youngest. There's another one who needs sooooo much more of our physical attention, but you need it, too. You can't be left on your own, not really, but especially early on, you were often left to entertain yourself. You are the last one of ours that will play baseball and soccer, that will go to the bus stop on your own and the last one we'll have in the regular public school system.
You were there on that day when we found out that your brother was going to be different. We had no idea that it was going to be any different than the rest of you, and when I started crying (and couldn't stop), you wanted them to stop hurting Mommy. You were only 3 1/2, and so concerned for me.
Over the next few months, there were often times when I would tear up, although I saved most of the sobbing for when I was alone. It was you and me in the house and you would often, any time the urge hit, come running to find me and give me a hug "because you're sad, Mommy." I'm sorry that I was so sad around you, but so grateful for your compassionate spirit.
|Your baby doll had to have oxygen,
just like Aaron.
You're so smart, sometimes a little too smart. You learned to write your name early. And you practiced, everywhere, often with blue sharpie. One time, you wrote your name on the inside of your bedroom door with it. Then on the outside, you wrote it backwards perfectly, letters and name, as if you could see right through to the writing on the other side. I wasn't quite sure whether to be impressed or irritated. I decided on a bit of both.
When I told you that you couldn't go on Mary's or David's missions with them because you were going to be baptized at eight and you wouldn't be here, it took about two seconds for you to come up with (in an exasperated tone, like, "duh, Mom) "They baptize people on missions."
But you also knew before age five about how to read a pulse/ox machine, how to tell whether it was reliable or not, and if the numbers were something to be concerned about. You could turn oxygen up and down as needed. You're probably the only kindergartner around that put a "stander" as something a magnet could stick to. I doubt anyone else even knew what that was!
I love you, Michael. Seven years old going on 17, trying so hard to be like your big kids. You're an amazing little boy.