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.

I remember

Dear Goose,

When you first came into existence you were an egg in a petri dish that managed to get fertilized.  You multiplied in cells along with others to become one of my much loved embryos.  You and one sibling grew together to be our strongest hope to give Bug a little brother or sister.  There were others, but they were not as strong.  So we picked you and one more to transfer back into my waiting body, and hoped that at least one of you would burrow in for a long 40 week stay.

One of you was a mere 8 cells, and one of you was a mere 9 cells.  We have pictures of both of you.  We will never know which one you were little fighter boy, but to me it doesn’t matter.  I’m sad that we lost your sibling in there, but you were strong and you latched on and burrowed in and held on tight.  I am so thankful for that my love.  I am so glad that in that beginning you knew I was meant to be your mother, K was meant to be your daddy, and YOU were meant to be our Son.

I knew you made it before we had the blood test to prove it.  I just knew it, in my gut, in my soul, and in my being.  I took that leap against your daddy’s wishes and took a home pregnancy test that minutes later took on a faint second line.  I remember that moment so well, I remember the tears that flowed.  I remember pouncing on your daddy who was still asleep to tell him the amazing news that he was going to be a daddy again.  I remember his sleep hazed shock and overwhelming happiness.

I remember 40 pretty uneventful weeks of pregnancy.  I remember agreeing to be induced 1 day after your due date because I couldn’t hardly stand, walk or sit, and I remember a short but powerful labor.

I remember your first scream.  Oh man do I remember.  You were pink and healthy and screaming, very unhappy to be forced into the cold world around you, out of the warm place you had been so content to try to stay.  That first scream lasted a good 20 minutes.

I remember the first time you latched onto my breast.  Gratefully sucking away somehow knowing it was your survival.  It was an amazing moment, the way you knew exactly what to do, the way it quieted those screams down.

I remember the first time your daddy looked at you. I remember the look of love and pure adoration on his face.

I remember introducing you to your sister for the first time.  She was so excited that baby was here, and just wanted to hold you and hug you and kiss you.

I remember bringing you home.  Officially, finally making our family of 3 a much wanted family of 4.

I remember the early sleep deprivation.  The ease that breastfeeding came to us.  The reflux that made me want to cry with you.

I remember how you always want to be held. By me. Except when you didn't.

I remember being peed on when I forgot to make sure your diaper was on, well, correctly. 

I remember being so scared when you were a mere month old and your sister had to spend a few days in the hospital.  I was so afraid you were going to get sick too.  I hated taking time away from you, but needed to spend time with her.

I remember you rolling over.  I remember you sitting up unsupported at 5 months.  I remember you crawling.  I remember that first tooth breaking through at 8 months, and the 5 teeth that followed over the next 3 ½ months.  I remember you taking those first awkward steps at 10 months, and then it was off to the races.

I remember the craziness of you being a boy. 

I remember pink shorts at a restaurant when I forgot to bring you a change of clothes.

I remember feeding you solids for the first time at 6 months, and how you immediately shoveled food into your own mouth.  I love that I’ve never had to feed you, that you’ve been so independent to do it on your own.

I remember the jokes daddy and Nana made about what a mama’s boy you were, and still are. 

I remember that when nothing else would sooth you, I always had the power to do so.  Sometimes by the breast, sometimes by walking, sometimes by bouncing, and sometimes by simply holding you.

I remember the adoration in your beautiful blue eyes as you looked up at me.

I remember how different you are than your sister.  How wonderfully, fiercely YOU you are.

I remember the first time you said mama and dada. I remember when you looked at me and said mama, knowing that was me.

I remember how you’ve adored your sister since day 1.  How you want to be just like her, do what she does, play with what she plays with, go where she goes.

And I remember holding your sleeping body in my arms.  Heavy with fatigue myself.  Marveling at the wonder and miracle that I hold in my hands.

1 year ago today my little Goose.  1 year ago today you came into this world so fast and furious that I knew life would never be the same.  All of these little memories will never go away.  They may fade with time and life may get in the way, but they will never disappear.  Because I will not let them.

Happy Birthday my little Goose, my little boy, my son.  I cannot wait to see what memories this next year brings with you.  I cannot wait to watch you grow more into the little boy you are meant to be. 

I love you Goose, forever and ever. 

Love,
Momma

“….I wanted you more than you’ll ever know, so I sent love to follow wherever you go..."