You're laying next to me in your pirate jammies. We're sleeping together tonight 'cause daddy's out of town. (*whisper: Don't tell Dad, but I love to sleep with you*end whisper). I love to listen to your gruff night-time breath. I love to feel the warmth of your hot little body in the sheets. I love to run my fingers through the sweaty hair above your ears. I love to imagine what you might be dreaming of.
Every single first day of school shot I took turned out blurry; we might have to recreate this sceneToday you started kindergarten. You could have convinced every stranger in the neighborhood that you were 100% brave, but I'm your mom - I could smell nervousness down deep. So as we were pulling out of the garage, I asked how you were feeling. You cheerfully told me, "I'm really excited, but mostly still a little bit nervous." I was mostly a little bit nervous, too. But I knew you needed me to be brave. So we stopped the car and said a prayer. You started praying and Lily echoed each phrase, you paused for a minute then started whispering your prayer in her ear, happy to let her be the voice. It was so sweet to hear you pray for yourself, and then hear her repeat those supplications for you. She loves you so much. While you were at school, she kept saying, "I wanna go at kinneygowden, mom. I wanna go wiss Henny."
I want you and your sister to teach me about God and godliness because He is fresher in your minds than mine. When I'm in the right frame of mind, it happens. I realize deep, sparkly things from our interactions. Treasures.
When you came home from school, you promptly removed your socks and shoes. (You prefer bare feet to any manner of footwear, a preference I completely understand). And then you walked into the kitchen, pulled a bowl from the cupboard and the applesauce from the fridge and made yourself an after-school snack. And for some reason that insignificant little sequence just nudged me a bit - it seemed so "big boy." And I had a 5-second vision of teen-aged you coming home and rummaging through the fridge for a snack.
I hope we can afford to feed you then - you already eat as much as a lot of adults I know.
But mostly, I hope we're still friends - when you're 6 foot something and unfairly handsome and always-hungry, I hope you'll still ask me to lay by you in your bed some nights. I hope we'll still chat about your day and about the things you think would be really, really cool. I hope you and Lily will still be allies. I just hope you'll still be...you. Because I'm quite fond of you, sir.
a lot of love!" And I give you the satisfaction of thinking that you do indeed love me more. But that is just me appeasing your desire to have the last word. Because I totally love you more. And you won't believe me 'til you have a baby of your own. And then you'll watch that little person and your heart will twist and swell and pound and you'll realize how very little you understood about love before parenthood.
I can't imagine my heart without you in it.