Milo turned 7 yesterday.

He woke up, came upstairs to our bed where I lay with Oliver and Emil already snuggled in tight for our morning hug-fest, which has become routine lately. Before his messy blond head even cleared the top of the stairs, his brothers and I sang out (a bit too loudly) “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MILO!!!” to which he replied in a dazed sweet voice, “I’m seven.”

Yes, buddy, you are seven!

Andrew came home soon after with a surprise hot chocolate and cinnamon roll as a special treat since Milo would be spending the whole day at school for his birthday.

Hours later, Andrew and I sent nearly identical messages to each other at practically the exact same moment. Something heartfelt and sappy about how we were thinking of the very same moment seven years ago, about becoming parents for the very first time. The emotions tied up with Milo’s birthday will forever be monumental for us. And yes, it seems unfair to our other children in a way, but Milo’s birthday is also ours and so special in a different way. Milo’s birthday represents the birth of our own parenthood, one of the most defining moments in our lives.

And so, for better or for worse, our first child has carved the way for his brothers. Our guinea pig, our test subject over the years. We have learned with him how we want to parent, how to let go and how to nurture all at once.

Milo, our fiery, sensitive, incredibly smart, amazingly athletic boy. Our only blond-haired, blue-eyed slender and tall boy. Our sometimes brooding introvert who needs alone time at least once a day, but needs help remembering that. Our thoughtful boy who jumps to help his youngest brother with anything and everything, who helps his middle brother mostly by cheering him on, encouraging and challenging him like no one else can. He is a crucial piece to our family and we wouldn’t be the same without his insights and laughter.

Milo, as you turn seven, I will lay down your favorites so that you might look back with fondness and remember this year. Your favorite activities lately are reading and climbing things (including door frames). You are incredibly strong and sometimes a little cocky. We are working on humility, which you do an incredible job discussing and understanding. You eat peanut butter and Nutella sandwiches and apples every day for lunch, and graciously eat any dinner we put in front of you (even when we can tell you don’t like it, you still say thank you). Your favorite place is still the City Museum, where we will be taking you this weekend.

Milo, we cannot say just how much we love you. Thank you, my lovely boy, for just being you.