Back in October, I wrote a letter to my son, in which I listed my hopes for him when he’s 18.
Then, my pregnancy was still in its early stages (8 weeks!) and now, I’m 36 weeks large (I know, you’re saying, what? Where did the time go? My answer: your time went to me because it feels like it’s been a long haul!).
It’s time to add to that letter, hence, part deux (my attempt at being fancy).
When you turn 18, you will probably leave home.
To explore the world, to find yourself, to get an education (as your mother, I have to say that), to learn to navigate this big, bad world.
Know that when you do, your Mama will be all at once happy for you, sad for herself, and will probably call you at least once a day (maybe twice).
But also know that your Mama is proud of you.
Because I know, I just do, that you will do well, that you will do Papa and I proud, that your little brother will look up to you always, and want to be just like his big brother.
Do you know why?
Because even at age 2 (yes, just 2!), you taught ME a few things.
You taught me to slow down. To really stop, and be present. When we walk together, you don’t rush. You walk. You look around. You stop to look at something that interests you. You pause. You pause in that moment, and you take in that moment fully. As adults, we seem to have forgotten how to do that.
You taught me to laugh. I don’t know when life dealt me such a blow that I go around most days, not even feeling very smiley. But since you came into my life, my dear boy, you’ve made me laugh. You find joy in the little things. In achieving something new, in doing well at something not-so-new, in just looking at the faces of the people you love. I’ve found my laugh again.
You taught me to forgive. You don’t hold grudges. You may be angry at us for making you do something you really don’t want to (like sleep – I know, you’re horrified, sleeping is so awesome! Now you know.), but in minutes, you turn that frown upside down. You come to us, hug us, smile at us and tell us in your own toddler way that it’s okay. Forgiveness is a gift, and you’ve given me that.
So yes, my dear firstborn, I know that when you fly the coop, leave the nest, do all those grown up things we’ve hopefully prepared you well for, know that you’re doing us proud. That you’re setting a fine example for your little brother.
P/S* I hope you’ve also mastered the art of cooking, cleaning up after yourself, laundry and vacuuming. Because your Mama can’t do that for you forever!
Linking up with my favorite writing/ blogging community, yeah write. Want to meet awesome writers? Link up on Tuesday!