You were the one we planned down to a T. The one we read to in utero. You were the one who’s name was picked out three months before birth. The one we read parenting books about before hand, to make sure we did it all right.

You were the one who was the exact opposite of all the books. The one who came early and not on my plan. The one who taught me that nothing would ever again be by my plan. I could probably write a book or two about parenting you.

You were the first. The one I made all the mistakes on. Let’s be honest, the one I’m still making all the mistakes on. You are paving the way for them. Making it easier for them. As a first born, that is sorta your job. As a first born myself though, I know it’s okay. Because you are okay.

In fact, you are amazing.

Today you are nine. Nine years old. I have said that to myself about 20 times today already and it doesn’t seem real. You said it to me at least that many times in-between the butt crack of dawn when you woke me up to tell me (seriously kid, it could have waited one more hour) and 8:35am when I dropped you off for school.

10:43pm. I know you don’t want to hear it, but that is the actual time of your birth. Basically you are still eight right now. I told you that this morning and all I got was an eye roll and a heavy sigh. I guess I’m not that funny anymore. In your mind, I may never have been. Thankfully for me, your siblings are in the, mommy is very funny camp. I like them best.

You were the one that changed my life. The one that made my life not about me anymore. Each day, I am grateful for you. You and your siblings make life worth living.

You ruined maple syrup for me forever. You did. Really.

You were the one who taught me to think before I spoke harsh words, because you take everything personally. You are sensitive, caring, sweet and smarter than me. From you, I’ve learned that being a mother means having infinite patience and that eventually, I will run out of it.

This year, you’ve grown up so much. I wish I could go back and un-do some of that, but I can’t. I can’t un-d0 anything that’s happened this year. It’s forced you to be more responsible. It’s forced you to be a little more mature and helpful than you should have had to be. You’ve risen to the occasion time and time again. I could not be more proud of the way you have been this year.

You were hit by the dancing bug this year. You are a phenomenal dancer. When I close my eyes, I can still picture you on that stage. Not a single miss-step. Not even one.

You were the one that made me a mother. You are the one that makes me strive to be a better mother. To be better for you, as well as your siblings.

Last night, you and Mackenzie and I went to an amazing Fondue Restaurant. That was a first for all of us.  We had an absolute blast. I can’t even being to tell you how much fun I had with the two of you. At one point though, we were talking about Harrison and you said, you know mom, he was very annoying this morning. I wish you could put him back. Oh dude, owie. Have you looked at him? He’s a huge monster boy baby. I am not putting him back. Remember how we talked about how babies are born? You really think that shoving him back in there is something I’m going to do?

Oh Em Gee MOTHER. EWWWWWWWW. We are never talking about this again. REMEMBER!!!! Never mention this subject again. Let’s talk about something pretty.

Yeah, that was your actual response. I cracked up. As did the table next to us. Nice people. Young. Newly married looking. Possibly might have kept them from ever wanting kids. Ha.

You never stop making me laugh. Even if you think I’m the strangest, most annoying, non-funny mother in the entire world.

Happy ninth birthday Morgan.

Mommy loves you.