Dear Lincoln,

Hello, best friend. You are the sweetest little boy I have ever met. You have shown me a lot in the short 8 years and 78 days I have known you. I have never appreciated a human being as much as I appreciate you. Your love is unconditional, never judges, and is love in its purest form.

I am sitting here, listening to your snores and sleep sounds. I am in love, in awe, mesmerized, and, beyond that, speechless. I want to tell you how much I love you. But my words are failing me.

When you entered Kindergarten three years ago, I saw you struggle to find your place in elementary school. I could see my little boy disappearing before my eyes. I was in more pain than I could imagine. We all tried our hardest to conform. We hired you a tutor three days a week. You loathe it.

But summer treated you well, and we all entered 1st grade with optimism. We did our best, but I could see my little boy disappearing again. But this time, it was different, and you were being left farther and farther behind.

We decided to keep you home “sick” for a week and try our hand at homeschooling you. Daddy took the reins, while I was there for lunch, outings, and Ninja classes. We taught you how to read in a few short weeks, and you have grown leaps and bounds since then. Your confidence and personality were restored, and we haven’t looked back.

Right now, you love singing, but only for fun. You love Spotify and Minecraft. If you could only have one wish for the day, it would be for your sisters to play Minecraft with you. You are addicted to Ninja classes, and you would go every day if we let you. You love eating out, and you love going to parks. You love going to the grocery store, and your favorite stores are Wal-Mart and H-E-B. One of your favorite things to do is “add to cart” on Amazon.com. You also love desserts, baking, letting us read to you, and snuggling. You are happiest outside, typically on a scooter, digging holes, or climbing a tree. You are all boy, and I love every bit of you.

You struggle to define what you want to be when you grow up, but I know you want to be with family. So I will write you another letter as you become passionate about one thing over another.

You, indeed, are our best friend. We spend almost every waking moment together, and I fear the day when things change. I am told little boys grow up, but I can’t give you confirmation on this because I have never had one before.

I thank God for you every day. Please always be mine. Hugs and kisses, Links. I love you.

Love, Mommy.