Straight Outta Single Digits 💥

Straight Outta Single Digits 💥

Excuse me while I bawl my eyes out 😭 because someone around here just turned the BIG ONE-ZERO! TEN. Double digits. A whole decade old. HOW?!

Someone please explain how my squishy little baby, who once fit perfectly in my arms, now wears an Apple Watch and sets up playdates on his own?? I mean… was I not just teaching you how to hold a pencil yesterday?

Watching you grow up is like watching your heart learn to walk around outside your body… wearing mismatched socks and asking for more screen time. It’s magical. It’s painful. It’s all-consuming. And yes, motherhood is low-key torture. Beautiful, glittery, donut-scented torture.

You were supposed to stay little forever. Snuggly. Giggly. Mine. But here you are, growing into the kindest, funniest, smartest little human—and I am so proud I could burst.

Now let’s recap your Year of TEN in all its glory:

✨ You became more independent. Like actually texting other parents to plan playdates (your texts melt my heart—they’re so respectful and humble).

✨ You got an Apple Watch and immediately started reading and replying to my texts. (Please note: “LOL” is not an appropriate reply to an important conversation between me and the Director of the Department of Neighborhoods, sir.)

✨ You and Dia started going to the same school—and you’ve become the sweetest big brother on Earth. Looking out for her and even sharing your friends with her.

My favorite memory?

The day you called me from the school office in full big-bro panic mode:

Ansh (scared): Mom
Me (concerned): Yes, gudda, kya hua?
Ansh: Mama, I have LEGO camp today, and I don’t know what to do with Dia.
Me: Can you just get her on the bus?
Ansh: You sure? Will she be able to go by herself? She’s never gotten on the bus without me.
Me: Yes. Just make sure she gets on the bus. Where are you?
Ansh: I’m in the office.
Me: Just get her on the bus, and I’ll pick her up.
Ansh: Okay, Mama. I trust you. Just don’t be late—she’ll get scared.
Me (in tears): How did I raise such a sweet kid?

You TRUSTED me with your SISTER. I will never recover from the sweetness of that call.

Another highlight?

I was getting ready to pick you up from the bus stop when I got a call from school. You, on the other end:
“Mom, I just called to remind you that I have chess today, so don’t come to the bus stop. I thought you might forget.”
How the hell did you know?? How are you this smart??

So yes, we caved and got you that Apple Watch to avoid you having to go to the office every time to call me. And now you’re officially our household secretary—answering calls like a mini assistant (who really needs to stop saying “LOL” to my clients 🙃).

This year, you were awarded the Knight of Honor for kindness and empathy.
And I was like… “DUH.” Of course the world is starting to see what I’ve always known—you are pure gold, kiddo.

Let’s not forget some classic Ansh quotes from the year:

🌀 Ansh: “I think I’m gonna spin around to get dizzy 😵‍💫”
Me: “What? Why?”
Ansh: “I think I got too much energy. I’m gonna loosen that.”

🧠 “I think I need to cool down a bit. I worked too hard at school today and my brain is literally hurting.”
(Your dad is really proud of your use of the word “literally” 😂)

🫡 Caught you lecturing Dia the other day:
Ansh: “Dia, you cannot walk to the bus by yourself. You have to wait for me.”
Dia: “But you weren’t there. I couldn’t find you.”
Ansh: “It doesn’t matter. You wait for me. When you’re in 1st grade, sure, you can walk by yourself. But in kindergarten, you are supposed to wait for me.”

And the funniest one?

You got very sick… (okay, not the fun part). I made you sleep in the guest room since it’s closer to my room and Dad was traveling. I worked late into the night, didn’t hear anything, so I assumed you were asleep. When I came to check on you, the entire room was stinking—and you were peacefully sleeping in a pool of vomit. You had thrown up on yourself, the bed, the couch, the carpet, the plants…

(Yes, the plants.)

I cleaned you up, changed your clothes, moved you to another room, and spent the next 3–4 hours cleaning everything up. No sleep for me that night.

The next morning, I asked how you were feeling. You looked at me, all casual:
“I’m fine! Why?” 😑
Boy… I wanted to smack your head and laugh out loud all at once 😂

But then that evening, you wrote me a note:
“Mom, thank you for taking care of me when I’m sick.”
Awwww. That melted my heart. ❤️

This year, something extra special happened—you performed in our adult showcase! Yeah yeah, you’ve been performing since you were a toddler, but THIS year you danced with the adults and totally stole the show. I am so, so proud of you. I can already see you growing into a total rockstar.

You also became a pro swimmer! You were promoted to the gifted swim level. Some of those strokes you pull off—so clean and fluid, like a fish. It was such a joy to see you swimming all day in Mexico. Sure, we came back with sunburns… but also so many beautiful memories.

Ansh, your sensitivity scares me sometimes. You feel so deeply. Love so fiercely. Worry so compassionately.

I always find myself checking in to see if you’re okay, because your feelings get hurt quickly. I want you to know that winning and losing are just part of the game. Winning isn’t everything. Losing is what actually makes you better.

You get so impacted that you sulk. And when I try to console you with, “It’s okay,” you gently push me away and say:

“Mom, I am hurt, and it’s okay to be sad. Please give me some space.”
At that point, I have no idea what to say. 😉

All I know is—the world needs more boys like you.

You’ve changed my life in ways I never thought possible. You made me a mom. And now you keep making me better every single day.

This was supposed to be the final letter in my “letters till 10” promise.

But you know what?
Screw promises.

I’ll write you letters forever.

Because you’ll always be my baby boy.

Forever and ever,
Mama ❤️