Before I became a mother, I wrote love letters to my children. In my thoughts, through poetry, in analysis of my self doubt, I started to document the progression of their lives. Before I even met their father, I yearned to have a son to love and mold into the type of man I wish the world had more of. And so, how incredibly blessed am I, as I sit to write this love letter to my son on his second birthday?
Beautifully Blessed By You, My Son
I wonder if a little boy grows out of needing love letters from his mama? Do you think you’ll ever grow tired of reading my words to you? Much like the growth of this little site and a humble quest of personal growth, at two years old, I see glimpses of the young man you’ll grow to be. How is it that you are not my baby anymore…
Your dad says that you’re a mama’s boy, but to that I’m not so sure. You really are my more independent child, and in my heart, I know you’ll be conquering this world without fear and without needing me by your side. Unlike your sister, I know this be true. It takes a daily reminder to help me stay focused – the ultimate goal in parenting is to raise self assured and confident members of society. But sometimes I just really want you to want me.
And sometimes, you really are just mama’s baby. Every morning, you wake up early, about 5 am, calling for one of us to get you. We bring you into our bed, where you curl right up next to me and fall back asleep. Your arms fling up, catching my face and hold it there in your little palm. You sometime can’t find a comfortable spot, and end up laying on my chest. You’re an excellent sleeper and take one long nap each day. With a belly full of milk, I lay you down wide awake and say good night. As I shut the door, you whisper “I love you mama” and drift off to sleep. You’re such a big boy, my angel.
Even though it has been a year since you’ve last breastfed, when you’re very tired (or need extra comfort), you pretend to suckle over my shirt as if you never stopped feeding. It’s kind of strange, but I would never deny you that sense of comfort. And in any case, it’s just one more way I get to keep the baby part of you for a bit longer.
At two years old, you’re a talking machine. It’s nonstop communication, all day long. Your vocabulary is officially larger than I can keep track of, and it grows every day. You know the sounds animals make, the names of all the Disney Planes characters and we’re working on your colors and shapes too. You know so many letters of the alphabet already, which is pretty awesome, but I can’t take credit for that. Your sister has been an excellent teacher. You have preferences and I do a fairly good job at letting you make small decisions, although you’d probably like to make more of them around here.
You have opinions. Oh boy, do you have opinions! And I love you for them. You are a very sweet child – one of the sweetest I know – but being a younger brother has brought out your temper. Luckily you are not a hitter, but you yell and scream if your sister has pushed your last nerve. But mostly, you adore your big sister something fierce. When she is mean to you, it’s like the sky is crashing down on you. I know it’s a natural development between siblings, and we always end the day in family cuddles and kisses. There is nothing on this earth that brings me more happiness than the two of you, together and happy.
Sebastian, you are the light of my life. Your joy brings me joy. Your sorrow breaks my heart. I am so proud to be your respite; your place to cower and be a baby. I don’t care how old you are, every man needs a place they feel protected and secure. You will grow and one day you will fly away, but before then, you will always be safe with me.
Te adoro, mi papi chulo. Por siempre y despues de siempre.
I’ll love you forever,