Dear Zayden,

As of today, you are a year (and a day) old, and I am planning on making this a yearly tradition. Each year for your birthday, I will write you a letter, so you can one day marvel at my intelligence. Forgive me if it’s narcissistic that I think that the best gift I can give you is my own words. You lucked up this year; I happen to write for The Odyssey, so instead of shouting my love for you from a mountain top, I can just pop this up on Facebook and have the same effect.

Hey, you’re a lucky guy in more ways than one.

You have completely changed my life in ways that I never imagined you would. For one, you have given me a stronger stomach. One of your favorite sports is getting your bodily fluids all over your favorite aunt. I gag, you giggle. It’s a beautiful relationship that we have.

You have certainly improved my physical health. You have developed my speed and my strength in profound ways. How such a large (I say this lovingly) baby could weigh so much yet move so quickly astounds me. You’re going to be an athlete; I can feel it.

You definitely changed our family dynamic. Though I was once the family favorite, you quickly stole that position. I let you have it because I’m a good aunt. And a sucker for chubby cheeks.

I suddenly know where every baby section is in every department store. You are one of the very few human beings that I will gladly spend money on. Your aunt is a penny-pincher, if you can’t tell. Shopping for you is amazing, and it’s even better if I get to go to the toy store.

You changed me in all these ways, but I haven’t even gotten to the good stuff yet.

On the night that you were born, I rushed to the hospital after a synchronized swimming meet. I went 80 miles per hour the whole way (don’t tell your grandmother!) and was in the delivery room when you were born. It was the most beautiful thing I have ever experienced.

It was also slightly disturbing because, like I mentioned earlier, I have quite the weak stomach.

In the first moment that I held you, I discovered what it meant to love someone to the point where it hurts. You were so small and, without a doubt, the most amazing thing I have ever seen.

Then I was plunged into full-blown “aunt-hood.” I fed you, I changed your diaper (sometimes), and when I was home this past summer, I got to listen to you cry. Every. Single. Night.

But then, I got to experience those moments that make every one of those nights worth it. I remember the first time you smiled at me; I, of course, cried.

We went to a wedding once, and we tore up the dance floor. I hope you inherit my dance skills. Everyone else prays that you don’t.

The memories that I can put on paper won’t scratch the surface of how amazing it is to be your aunt. I’m so thankful that your mother shares you with me in the way that she does because it has been, and will continue to be, the greatest experience of my life.

If there is anything that I have learned, it’s that it takes a village to raise a child. You lucked up and landed in the best village there could ever be. You have a whole army of people who will make sure that you always know just how loved you truly are.

If you ever doubt your worth or abilities, just know that you are the reason I make excuses to come home from college constantly. If that doesn’t tell you just how amazing you really are, chances are you aren’t in college yet. College is a hoot. But you’re a hoot and a half.

My mama used to read this book to me when I was young, and chances are, she will read it to you too. It goes a little something like this, but I had to change it to fit you and me a little better. This sums up my feelings toward you better than I could with a million words.

“I’ll love you forever,

I’ll like you for always,

as long as I’m living

my nephew you'll be."

And that will never change.

I love you more than you love to drool!

Aunt Mimi