For last year’s post, click here.


Dear Bubba,

Oh, kid.  You.  You are too much.

Over the last year you have made a fairly seamless transition from preschool to kindergarten and from little kid to true big kid.  YOU CAN SLEEP ON THE TOP BUNK NOW!  Shit is getting real, is what I’m saying.

One of the most exciting (for me, at least) aspects of watching you this last year has been how your relationship with Ed has grown.  You have readily and happily accepted him as your brother, and you two have your own little games, routines, and jokes.  You’re still shy with the hugs, but now and then I catch you moving from the spot next to him right into his lap, resting your head on his shoulder.  It warms my cold, dead heart to see two of my favorite people care for each other so much and so easily.

Your wit and sense of humor continue to shine through as you make up little stories and puns.  You are reading and spelling like a champ (or, to be more specific, like a second grader), which of course makes your English major sister insanely proud.  You are devouring chapter books as fast as we can buy them or check them out from the library, as long as we honor Dad’s wish that he be able to follow along, too. 

I fear that the famous DeFazio Competitive Streak has found its way to you.  And while you are a fairly sore loser, you can also be kind of a jerky winner.  I’d love to say I don’t know where that came from, but hi, Kettle.  I’m the Pot.  As much as I want to grab you by the shoulders and say, “Hey, be cool!” I know that I need to model that behavior, too, and remember that while you use big words and wipe your own ass, and help make breakfast you are still so young.  There’s time and so much growing to be done.

Speaking of growing: I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to pick you up and swing you around.  You’re skinny as ever, but all arms and legs and pointy elbows and knees coming at me.  It makes me a little sad that you aren’t small enough for such games anymore, but more than anything it’s thrilling to see you grow strong and healthy.  (Also thrilling?  Your burgeoning geekdom -hello, Star Wars obsession.  When we get into some Star Trek and Battlestar Galactica business it’s going to be crazy.) 

When you were born Dad said he hoped that you would grow up to be strong and use your strength to help others.  You have already done that: you have helped this family become whole and happier than any of us dreamed possible.

I love you, Little Man.  Happy Birthday.

My love always,



PS I have taken your request for a nephew under advisement.  No promises, but we’ll see what I can do.


One thought on “Six

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