Where has this last year gone?!? 1 year ago I was watching you eat your very first cupcake, calculating how many sugar calories you were ingesting. I was stressing over your Shark Birthday Party, nervous about my first event planning task in this gig called motherhood.
You’ve accomplished so much since then. You weren’t walking then, but baby, at two you love “doing tricks”, running, jumping, tumbling, sliding and climbing your way around this house of ours. You said some words then, but now we hold conversations with you. You know the alphabet, for crying out loud, and you sure had your Father and I laughing the other night when you quoted our favorite SNL sketch. Your manners are a testament to the great state you were born in, your wit a testament to the parents you were born of. We’re not sure how you got so smart…
Keep your confidence, one day you may meet someone who will tell you you’re wrong. Keep your defiance, one day you may meet someone you know isn’t right. And keep your sense of humor, if for no other reason than to entertain your Father and I. Keep singing Jesus Loves Me at the top of your voice. He does love you. Even if you never do develop a sense of pitch, you should still tell the world.
I know you’re anxious to grow up, but don’t do it too quickly. Yes, you absolutely can be anything you want to be. Glory, you’re certainly smart and confident enough to do it, but why not be like that neighbor of ours, you know the one that’s older and lives with his parents and never leaves the house except to walk his dog in a hooded sweathshirt, even on the hottest days? Yeah, doesn’t he seem happy? I bet his Mom is at least.
So. Don’t grow up too fast. We’ve hit our stride, you and me kid. You certainly give me a run for my parenting money, but we’re in a good place. I like you bubba. Of course I’m 10,000 kinds of crazy for you, but every mother loves their child like that. I could go into detail about how I love you. How you turn your heartwarming hater of a mom into a sappy mess when I watch you sleep on the video monitor every night. Or how I watch you play on the playground and think if any child ever gives you any crap I’ll take down both them and their Mom. I could tell you how the thought of you growing up and getting hurt one way or another makes me horrifically ill. I could tell you all that normal “Mom” stuff, but not only do I feel that way, I also like you. Your Dad and I think you’re one bad dude and we have such a good time with you. You’re our favorite little pal.
I love you and I like you. You’ve ushered me into the role I’ve always been meant for.
All my love,