We celebrated his sixth birthday today.
I can't believe I just wrote that.
It seems like just yesterday I was walking down the halls of the hospital, stopping every couple minutes to breathe through a body-splitting contraction.
My baby boy came into the world at 8:10 am, and our little family of three grew to four.
He is such a special little boy.
He loves to sing, and I love to listen to him.
He is constantly busy, and running, and talking, and, always-always-always scheming.
He loves to hunt and fish with his daddy, and snuggle up with his mommy on the couch, or help me cook and bake in the kitchen.
He thinks his big sister is the coolest person ever, and goes back and forth with his baby brother: thinking Cavan is his best friend one minute, and his worst enemy the next. He loves "his baby," and can always make her scream with laughter.
He is absolutely fascinated by huge machinery. He is always talking about truck-drivers (eighteen wheelers; it has only been recently that I figured out why he calls eighteen wheelers "truck drivers": because every time we see one on the road, that's exactly how we refer to them!) and tractors and trucks and backhoes and loaders, etc.
His smile lights up my whole world. When he smiles, it's with his whole face, and when he's excited, he does an adorable full-body wiggle.
He has such a unique personality. I have known and interacted with lots and lots of children, and I have never met one with a personality like his.
He has added so much joy and dimension to our lives, and we are so thankful God trusts us with his life.
Happy Birthday, my sweet Cullen.
You'll always be my Baby Love.