Cyrus Gotstafuss

I look in my young man's baby book and smile at how many nicknames we had given him. Cyrus Gotstafuss (because he just had to fuss a lot, it seemed), Cypes (how Ally said "Cyrus" when she was 1 and 1/2), Mr.Buddy, Little Buddy, Chip, Chip-Chop Chippety-Chop, Chipster, Buzzard, Buzz, Lover, Mini-Mark, C.J., Fuzz-Buzzard....the list goes on and on. Most of the names have faded over time. Buzzard and Cypes have stood the test of time thus far...along with Nockerus (named after your version of rhinoceros from age three)!


Now he's nine and I'm telling him he can't be nine. He has to stay eight because Mom is not ready for a nine-year-old boy. A boy who is about an inch from meeting me eye-to-eye, closing in on 100 pounds all too soon, and wearing shoes that are almost as big as mine. A boy who can put down more food in one sitting than I can even think about eating all day. A boy whose sharp wit and off-the-wall comebacks make it so darn hard to stay stern and cover up that smile that keeps coming to my face.

Oh Cyrus, where did the time go? In some ways, you're still my little boy--bathroom wiping issues, snot-clearing, and all....and in other ways you are growing into quite the young man. A young man who watches action films with his dad ("It's a guy thing, Mom"), puts together Lego contraptions that I can't even begin to imagine, and has an imagination that won't quit. Dreams of archaeology, finding the Lost Ark, and reading the original Ten Commandments. A young man who wants to follow those Ten Commandments one minute and find a loophole through every single one of them the next. A young man who can be hilarious and profound, all at the same time.


You are the one I have prayed the longest over, worried the most over, and read the most "Difficult Child" books over. Yet you are the one who can change my emotions from negative to positive in the quickest beat of my heart. My son.

Happy Birthday Cypes! Love you as ever.