To My Son

My sweet P,


           Today mommy and daddy took you to your very first day of nursery school.  Three days a week, three hours a day…it seems like I have all of this “found” time now.  It has been just one month shy of three years that you and I have spent practically all of our waking minutes together.  I know that now the time is right for you to start school–you woke up today and said to me “I can’t wait for gool today!”  It has been the greatest blessing being able to spend these past years with you.  I thank your dad that he works so hard to let me stay home with you, because even though sometimes you drive me crazy (especially lately!) I wouldn’t have it any other way.  I was not the mom to drop you off at a friends, or have a sitter come so I could go shopping or get a manicure by myself…I was not the mom who handed you off to your dad when he walked in the door at night.  I was not the mom who couldn’t wait for a night out without you, or the mom who left you at the daycare at a gym.  I instead held you close, and kept you, my little buddy with me when I could.  I chose my “me” time to be when you nap, and I cherish the weekends that you, me and daddy are all together, rather than look for chances to get away.  You have come with me to the grocery store, the mall, RE appointments, OB appointments…basically anywhere I have needed to be, within reason, you’ve come along.  As I reread this now, I realize it may sound like I was too protective…but I know the kiss and hug you gave me as you walked into your classroom today without a tear demonstrate that I’ve done okay by you (so far).  Sure, there’ve been some mess-ups.  I’ve done some mean-mommy things that I’m not proud of (I did NOT need to throw the cereal box on the floor last week when I couldn’t handle the fiftieth time you were telling me no, you wanted Life…and we didn’t have Life…) but I made a promise to myself that I would always tell you after a “fight” that I loved you, that I was sorry, and give you kisses and hugs. 


             For a very long time I was afraid I wasn’t going to be able to have my own child.  And then came you. You warm my heart and make me laugh a hundred times a day.  I love that you kiss my leg with the painful veins as I get dressed in the morning, I love that you want me to sing to you still and cuddle in your rocking chair, I (secretly) love that only I will do when you wake in the middle of the night or need to be tucked in again or have to use the potty….  I love that you have a fiercely independent streak, as I was afraid at one point I might squash that with my overwhelming love.  I love that you have started to take a protective interest in your baby brother in my belly, giving him kisses, saying hello to him, and laying your head on me to try and hear or feel him when he gets a bad case of the hiccups.  There was also a long time when I didn’t think I would be able to give you a brother to love.  You were there for me to hold and cuddle and cry on when I lost the babies last March.  You were there with your sweet face to comfort me when I found out cycle after cycle had failed.  You didn’t ever know what was wrong, but you were always good for a hug.

                 I am so proud of the little almost-three-year old that you are, and I look forward to watching you grow up.  You are truly a gift to me and to your daddy.  I love you more than I ever thought I could love another, and more than you will ever be able to know.  In two months our lives will change a lot.  But you will always be my sweet little guy, my big hearted son, who may test me to my limits some days, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

                               I love you, P.  Love, love love you.