Sunday, July 27, 2014

Bug

My dear Bug.

Today, July 25, is a great day.

It’s an amazing day in your life.

It’s another milestone that makes me smile at the same time that it makes me cry. 

Today, you turn 4. 4! Where has the time gone?

During those 4 years you have left me sleepless and happy, amazed and sad. Frustrated and excited, proud and exasperated. Loved and hated, speechless and crazy. A range of emotions that I never knew I could feel, especially such drastic and different emotions at the Exact. Same. time.

Every day you introduce me to you. To the you that you continue to unlock. To the you that you determinedly show me. To the YOU that you are deciding to be. To the YOU that you were meant to be.

My bug, you are stubborn. Oh you are so so stubborn. You are lively and funny. You have an amazing sense of humor and you LOVE to laugh. And that laugh, oh that laugh. It’s contagious. When I hear it I can’t help but to want more. To try to do anything in my power to coax it out of you. And you think you’re hilarious. You love to joke and be silly, to be tickled and swung around.

My bug, you are sweet. A cuddler at heart. The way you’ll grab me and give me hugs and kisses makes me laugh. Especially when the kisses are so random and in random places. Like my arm. Or my leg, or my tummy, and yes, sometimes even my butt. The way you love to sit on anyone’s lap that will let you (unless it’s a stranger).

My bug, you love to dance and jump in puddles. You love to play with cars and trucks. You think it’s hilarious to get dirty while you eat.

My bug, you are a perfectionist. If you can’t do something, you get SO SO frustrated.

My bug, you are not potty trained quite yet. You’re getting close, and have been wearing big girl underwear all week to daycare, accidents and all. You are speech delayed and that causes frustration with everyone. But these 2 things don’t define you, they make you YOU and are a part of who you are, and that YOU is beautiful and loving and so so perfect to me.

My bug, you hate to be called a baby. That’s been hard for me as I so want to call you my baby girl. But you’re insistent that you’re a BIG GIRL.

My bug, you love to act like a kitty cat. You chase me around on all fours meowing.

My bug, you love your mommy and daddy and nana, your papa and bubba. Even when you’re mad and say you don’t.

My bug, you are my everything. My sweetheart, my beautiful girl in heart and soul. You are everything I wished for and so much more than I ever expected. You are the true light of my life, some days the only thing that keeps me going.

My bug, you have taught me so much more than I ever expected when you first graced this world at a tiny 7 pounds, 2 ounces.

You have taught me patience.

You have taught me how to be a mom, how to love like I’ve never loved before, how to keep going even when the days are tough and I just want to lie down and do nothing.

You’ve taught me that personality and heart is what defines a person, even at this tender age, not those things that you have or have not done ‘on time.’

You have taught me how important it is to fight for what YOU need, and you have taught me how to push even when I’m afraid to do so, to ensure that you get just that.

You have taught me what it means to carefully care for the seed you’ve planted.

You have taught me how to love myself because the way I love ME is a direct reflection of how you will love YOU as you get older.

You have taught me to love my body, flaws and all, because the way I love my body is a direct reflection of how you will love your body when you get older – flaws and all.

You have taught me the meaning of Love. I thought I knew love before you. And I did, but not fully. Now I do, and every second, every minute, every day, week, month and year I learn more about love, and the highs and lows that is love, and I love more and more than I ever thought possible.

You have taught me patience.

You have taught me how to better interact with people, how important it is to keep judgment out of my voice, body language and speech. How to see the person through a child’s eyes, and not the mistakes I perceive they have made. 

You have taught me about the beauty of a childlike innocence. That saying ‘apple juice helps me poop’ is a completely natural thing to say, no matter where you are.

You have taught me that my relationship with your daddy is of utmost importance. And that even when he’s gone and life as a part time single mommy of 2 kids gets in the way, that it is important that I ensure that our connection and communication is there and kept strong.

You have taught me patience.

And you have taught me Love.