Today, on your third birthday.

Can you believe it?  I can't.  X-man is three years old today.

  Happy birthday little man.  Or not so little anymore.  I wonder what you look like now.

People ask me pretty regularly how hard it is to say goodbye when kids leave our home.  My mind immediately goes to X-man, and I answer, "Excruciating."  But not a 'I would never do that ever again' kind of excruciating.  It's more of a 'I can't believe I had the opportunity to love you that much' kind of excruciating.  

X-man, I think about you all the time.  Really.  A lot.  I think about where you may be.  I think about what you may look like.  I think about all the things you've probably learned.  I worry about you.  I worry about you a lot.  I think about whether you ended up with blonde hair, or if it turned out kind of red.  I wonder if you still have that concerned look on your face.  I wonder who is being your Daddy.  I wonder what makes you giggle now.  I want to give you a hug.  I pray for you like crazy.        I miss you.

Maybe we'll see each other again.  If we do I'll give you a third birthday present.  I pray if we see each other again that it's by chance, and that everything is going beautifully living with your Mom.  I pray things turned around and that you all are doing great, and that she is loving you and your brothers to pieces.  

In my mind you'll always be 1 1/2 and you'll giggle when I tickle your knees.  Your legs will always look like little sausages and you'll smell like a mixture of pediasure and baby shampoo (I love it.).  

I hope I see you again.  I hope I recognize you.  I hope all you remember about foster care is our love.