Dear Riley,

Today you turn seven years old. 2009 was a long time ago, I suppose. It doesn’t feel that way because it’s still so fresh in my mind. If I close my eyes, I swear I can still see your squirmy newborn self and the way you looked me dead in the eyes a few seconds after you were born. 

You’re almost old enough to start reading these letters I’ve written you over the years. You’ll find them interesting I’m sure, but you won’t fully understand until you’re a parent. I wouldn’t have. 

Today at seven years old, you’re smart, thoughtful, funny and sweet. You stopped your birthday party yesterday because Charlotte accidentally got bumped by a big kid and started crying. “Stop the game!” You yelled. “My sister is hurt!” This is par for the course for you, big bro. 


You’re hilarious. Yes, you’re goofy and punchy sometimes, but you’re classically funny too. Last week your teacher told me you delivered a perfect, “thanks! I’ll be here all week” at the exact right time. Way to go, bud. 

Friday night, after my first week at my new, big job, I was noticeably frazzled getting everything ready for your party when you said, “thanks for always making my birthday parties shine, Mommy.” I asked what you meant and you said that I always make your parties extra special. Your sweetness takes my breath away on a regular basis. And you already notice that birthday parties are my love language. 

You hugged and kissed all the friends who came to your party. At seven, you wanted your friends to know how much you care about them. Some boys wiped your kiss off, too cool of course. But it didn’t bother you. You are who you are and you don’t apologize. Please never lose this. 

The day you were born, you changed me for the better, forever. Thank you Riley. 

I love you to infinity and beyond. 



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