birthday boy

Dear Rex,

Somehow I blinked and you turned four years old.  I have no idea how this happened because I really feel like you are still the little gigantic baby we brought home one hot day in July.  But here we are...several weeks after your birthday and I find myself so grateful for such a special boy.

You seem to be so many things, my little jelly bean.  You are the parts of a child that I never knew I needed but I so desperately do.  You are so easy and yet so hard.  You are so much more of a go-with-the-flow kind of kid than you brother will ever hope to be.  You are so open to new adventures and what's next that it is always my favorite thing seeing your reaction rather than experiencing it myself.  With that being said, you can throw on the brakes faster than any kid I know and hold them there long after we are all beat down.  You are a stubborn one, Rexy, and your confidence in your opinion thrills and scares me beyond belief.

You are so little and yet so grown up all at the same time.  You are able to do things faster, better and with less effort than I would ever imagine...probably a result from your constant studying of your older brother.  You have a knack for athletics, for building, and one of the most vivid imaginations in the world.  I could spend hours watching you line up all the little plastic animals in the house and listen to your conversations and wars between them.  And yet I would trade all of those hours for just five minutes of the precious privilege I still enjoy of being your go-to lap when you are tired and want to drink some milk and pick my nail.

My little social bug, I am in awe of your confidence...your raw ability to walk into a room of strangers and have them eating out of the palm of your hand within minutes.  I pray that you learn to use that skill to better your life and to help others.  That you find success with it and learn to use it as a tool.  Oh...and your father and I have secret conversations about once a week about how terrified we are for all the poor little girls in your high school and are already plotting a way to safeguard all the parties in college. *sigh*

Your fourth year has brought so much growth when it comes to being a contributing member of our family.  You have become so responsible and gentle with all of our animals, have clearing the dinner table and your room down to a science, and can tell a joke like it's your job.  The best friend that you have become to your brother is perhaps one of the most beautiful things I have ever experienced.

You are a gem, Rex Patrick.  You light up the lives of all that you come in contact with and I feel honored to be your Mommy.  I will spend this last year of Pre-K soaking up the afternoons with you and memorizing all the small bits of baby that are still here.

I love you.  We all love you.  Happy Birthday.

love, Mom

Sometimes when you feel like the world is not quite going the way you think it should, it feels good to have people around to give you a squeeze and let you know it's gonna be ok.  Even if it is not.  But it probably is.  

knock knock

knock, knock.

who's there?

obviously not me.

I've missed you.

Hope to be back soon....

6

Dear Roanin,

Six years ago something miraculous happened.  You were born.  You came into our world and immediately made your presence known (literally...your little head popped out and you started screaming bloody murder before I could even push your shoulders out of my body - Dad and the doctor were a little frightened).  

Having a child has been all the things that I would expect.  Big love.  Big memories.  Big lessons.  Big responsibility.  Big fun.  You have been the ring leader in all of them.  You are are first, and we get to experience all of these things first with you.  

But there has also been something so unexpected that has happened to me as your mother.  I have developed dreams, aspirations and plans for my sweet little hazel-eyed son who I adore - deliberate things that I do each day to try to make your life good and happy and the best that it can be.  But I have also been overcome with an urgency to make sure that I am the best that I can be...for you.  

There are moments when I look at your sweet little face and realize that you watch me.  You listen to me.  You drink me in.  You are shaping your inner voice and your perspective on life right now based on what is around you...and much of that time involves me.  

The very thought of that weighty honor and responsibility makes me feel like I am cresting the biggest hill of the highest roller coaster in the world.  Scared and exhilarated and kind of like I could either squeal or throw up or both.  

Son, I promise you that I am trying, and will continue to try my best.  I will put everything into being the best version of myself that is possible.  I will love myself.  I will love your Daddy.  I will love you and your chubby little brother until you think you can't stand me anymore and then I will vamp it up times ten million.  I will honor our family and make hard decisions.  I will love you enough to say no.  I will make you earn your keep even when I feel like just letting you slide.  I will laugh as often as I can so that  hopefully that is the melody in your memories.  

I want you to know that you have made me a better person.  Everyday.  It is beyond an honor to be your mother.  It is a privilege that I don't take lightly and I intend to do everything I can fathom to respect it and nurture it.  

Thank you for being such a gift.  Thank you for giving me your birth day.  Thank you for your strong will, your forgiveness, your intensity, your humor, your respect, your loyalty, your compassion and for just being you.

I love you little bear.  Happy birthday.

Love,

Mom

little letters

Dear Rex,

Just wondering why you woke up 8 times last night and insisted on calling me into your room and detailing each dream you had or explaining how you needed a drink of water or pointing to the part of your foot that wasn't working anymore.  Let's not do an encore of that performance tonight, thanks.  Also, I am wondering how you got to be so impossibly sweet and empathetic.  Thank you for always running backwards during a race between your brother, yourself and me to make sure that my feelings aren't hurt when I am losing and to cross the finish line with me.  I love you, bug. Love, Mom.

Dear Roanin,

We just booked the second surgery of your life for the end of this month.  Although it should be minor, the thought of not being by your side while you are put to sleep makes me feel like I am attempting to digest ten thousand razor blades.  Times a zillion.  As it turns out, this parenting gig is filled with all kinds of twists and turns and you happen to be the test guinea pig for the majority of the pitfalls.  Sorry about that.  Please promise not to hate me later for that and be bitter about your birth order.  One more thing - you are the bomb and watching your face when you play Guitar Hero is the equivalent of being hugged by ten thousand Care Bears.  I love you so much, baby bear.  Love, Mom.

Dear Shawn,

You are so important to me.  You have consistently provided a soft landing spot for every rough patch I have ever hit and every windfall that has come my way, in which I can wholeheartedly be myself and go through whatever I need to go through.  Your support is quiet, steadfast, and strong.  Thank you for not even needing me to ask you for this...you just knew to do it.  Please keep being this for me.  It is so important, and I might just shrivel up and die without it. You are my best friend and I love you most.  Love, me.

Dear Self,

Relax.  Breathe.  Take a moment to appreciate what is going on right this second.  Not what has happened or what is going to happen.  What is happening.  And then smile.  That's it.  Peace out.