A Birthday Letter to My Son

My oldest child has a birthday this week. I say my oldest, as if I have lots of kids. As if he’s a man in his twenties or something. Neither is true, and he’s turning two. It feels like he is two going on twenty some days. He’s growing up way too fast.  I decided to write him a letter for his second birthday. It recaps a few things from this year and explains why his Mom is the way she is.

Dear Son,

Happy Birthday! What a year it has been. We’ve laughed, cried, and had lots of fun.

It has been an eventful year for you. You became a big brother this year, thus being dethroned as the only special little person in the house. That’s a rough road to walk, especially at your age. You are a great big brother though, and are sharing your life in a wonderful way with him. I pray you will be best friends soon. I just know you two will have so much fun and probably get into lots of trouble too.

You broke your first bone and survived without missing much of a beat. You added a million different words, looks, concepts, memories, and most importantly- dance moves to our world. Boy, you can dance, and it makes everyone smile.

We said goodbye to Nana this year. She lives in heaven now. She was my Mommy and your Grandmother. She loved you very much. You made her smile even on the days she was feeling very sick and was in so much pain. Saying goodbye to her was very hard for Mommy. You made it easier though. You reminded me life goes on and is still good. You reminded me to cherish the little things you do, the everyday memories we make in life, and to remember we aren’t promised a long time together. We must make the most of the days we have.  You helped my broken heart start healing. Thank You.  

Adding your brother to our family has been a big deal. You’ve been a great helper, just like a big boy would. The day I had your brother, I left for the hospital before lunch. A few hours later, you arrived to meet him. I remember it vividly. You came walking in dragging your wheeled car/bag bag behind you. You had grown up in a matter of hours. You were no longer a baby. You were a big boy.  It literally took my breath away.

Lots of things take my breath away about you. You’re a kind hearted, long lashed, funny, loud music loving, fast moving, sand castle building, break dancing, wiggly, handsome little man. I couldn’t love you any more than I already do, and nothing will ever change that. I have lofty dreams for you and big prayers. I think you may just change the world one day. It’s not hard to imagine. You’ve already changed my world.

I think you will grow up to be a good man, much like your Dad. He’s a good man too. I love you, Son. It’s why I’ll probably cut your grapes in fourths for the rest of your life. It’s why I keep cleaning your ears in public, and fix your hair with freshly licked fingers in front of others. It’s why I kiss you…a lot. I know you think it’s too much. It’s not. It’s why I’ll play with your hair every time you get near for a cuddle. It’s why I’ll worry about you getting hurt, hover over you trying new things where you could get hurt, and double check your seat belt. I can’t help it.  I will love and want to protect you always, even when you can’t see it or understand.

On this, your second birthday, I wish for you a happy day. I wish for a day of no Time Outs. I wish for you a day of laughter, love, and maybe a gift or two from your Dad, Brother, and I. May your year ahead be fruitful and full of joy, growth, safety, good health, blessings, and fun.  Happy Birthday, Sweet Boy. Happy Birthday, to you! 

Love, 
Mommy

You Might Have a Newborn If:

You look at your sleeping child and wonder if they will ever realize how much you love them.

Smiles outweigh moments of spit up. You almost forgot about the spit up pooled on your clothing when a big toothless half grin pears up at you…almost.

You realize whoever said, “Diamonds are a girl’s best friend,” is a liar. It’s elastic. Specifically, elastic waist pants.

Your sleep deprivation coincides with your minor case of undiagnosed OCD, when you get annoyed the breast pump doesn’t pump at the beat of the music playing on your IPhone.

You have a moment of tears when you try to fix a meal for your family and you can’t find a knife sharp enough to cut the skin off the raw chicken.

Almost daily, you have an internal conflicting debate about what to do with your 5 minutes of free time. Shower or eat? This may be your only chance for either.

You happily manage to “baby talk” in a high pitch tone while fighting a splitting headache.

A trip to the pharmacy or grocery store is a day or night out on the town, or at least that’s what it feels like.

You fear the day you have to grocery shop alone with two small children.

You try on your wedding ring on at least twice a week, hoping your swelling and weight have dropped enough to squeeze it on.

Cuddles and skin to skin somehow make you forget there is a world outside of your own home.

Any day you are not in your pajamas while you are fixing lunch is a successful day.

You Google “What to do if your newborn is….” at least biweekly.

Your distain for folding laundry has reached an all time high with the exception of doing your children’s clothing. Those are still just plain old cute. You never get tired of looking at those little pieces.

You only know what day of the week it is by what is playing on “prime time” aka “colic time” TV.

You got 5 hours of uninterrupted sleep last night. In related news, you had enough energy to make car sounds as you raced your toddler’s plate over to the breakfast table. 

You realize those who tell you to “Nap when the baby naps” have never had a sink full of breast pump pieces and Dr. Brown bottles. They mean well, so you smile and nod.

You caught your toddler brushing his hair with the Swiffer and secretly wish he would volunteer to “brush” the dusty furniture for you.

During the day, you wish you could capture all the sweet moments and stuff them in the baby book. Really, you do because you fear you won’t have time to ever write in the baby book.

When you look at your baby, you thank God for the precious gift He’s given you. You try to wrap your brain around how His grace and blessings are beyond what you deserve.