A Letter for My Boy on His Birthday

Happy Birthday my sweet Toph!

My, my.  How this year has flown by.  You started it off with a surprise and have been surprising us ever since.  In all my life, I have never been able to remember a year with such clarity and vibrancy.  I remember being in that delivery room like it was yesterday; the lighting, the smell, surrounded by nurses, pushing so hard, scrunching my eyes closed and opening them at the very last second and watching you enter this world from my womb.  I remember your first diaper change and I remember your first night home and it was like they were yesterday and it was like they were 10 years ago.  I remember nursing, nursing, nursing and holding, holding, holding.  I remember when your daddy would come home I would feel like he was a giant because I had been in such close contact with a tiny person all day.

You see my boy, there's a thing called mommy brain and I have it.  What they tell you about mommy brain is that you forget things you normally wouldn't once you have a child.  That part is true; I forget to feed the cat and I forget to put on deodorant and I forget to buy key ingredients for dinner.  I forget to assign my students homework and I forget meetings.

I definitely have mommy brain, son.  What they don't tell you about mommy brain is that on the flip side, you remember EVERYTHING about your baby, in great detail.  

I remember when you lifted your head from the floor
and I remember you farting at the hospital 

and I remember your first smile 

and I remember your first tooth 

 and I remember your first ear infection.  

I remember your surgery and your x-ray 

and I remember how you peed on the photographer during your newborn photos.  

I remember the day you crawled, 

I remember the day you laughed in your sleep, 

I remember the day we moved you to your crib from the bassinet.  

I remember when you pooped on daddy and when you peed on him and no one thought that was funnier than me.  

I remember when you would let your Grammy walk you around for hours while you cried 

and I remember those afternoons marching around the house, singing La Cucaracha because that seemed to be the only song that would make you quit fussing.  

I remember nursing on the couch for hours on end and letting you sleep latched on to me because that was the only way you would nap a lot of days.  

I remember staying at home with you those first four months and it was glorious and rewarding and difficult. 

I remember sobbing the entire way to your first day of daycare 

and I remember the day I finally accepted that part of our life.

Toph, when it comes to you, I don't forget anything.  

I am a living Toph encyclopedia and I tend to stay that way.

You see son, I look at you and this year has flown and it also feels like forever.  

It's because I've known you forever, my son.  

You've been in my heart since the day I was born.  

Before I had you I always wondered why the Lord put me here on this earth; was it to be a daughter? 

A sister? 

A wife? 

A teacher?  

I know the answer is yes to all those questions, 

but now I know He put me on this earth to be your mama.  

Before I was born, the Lord knew I would have you one day.  

When I was a knobbly kneed five year old, the Lord knew I would be your mama one day.  

When I was a dreaming 18 year old, they Lord knew I would have you.  

When I was a smitten 20 year old dating your daddy, the Lord knew we would have you one day.

I look at you, and I mourn the passing of our first year together.  

It was a special, magical time and I will cherish every second of it. 

I will cherish the endless nights,

the wonderful milestones,

watching my husband turn into your daddy,

every spit out piece of food,

every challenge,

every triumph.  

I will never, ever forget them.

  This year our hearts and souls became forever entwined 

and we forged the foundation of a relationship that will continue to get stronger as the years go by.  

I look at you, and I see the past:

the newborn, the two month old, the six month old, the eleven month old.  

The magical thing about you though, is that I also see the future.  

The two year old, the ten year old., the sixteen year old, the twenty five year old.  

I get to be your mama for all of it.

My dear, precious, darling son.  

My treasure.  My prize.  

You make me want to be better all the time, 

because you are the physical representation of the best of me and your daddy.  

When the Lord was putting you together,

He took the best of us and made you.  

Every day I strive to honor Him by raising you well.  

It's not always easy 

(you are really talented at arching your back in protest) 

 but it's always worth it.

"I have watched you sleep.  I’ve kissed you a million times.  And I know something that you don’t, yet:

You are writing the story of your only {earthly} life every single minute of every day.

And my greatest hope for you, sweet child, is that I can teach you how to write a good one."

--Mom 2.0

I love you more than I will ever, ever be able to express to you in words.  

You will never know just how much of a difference you have made in my world.

I love you.

mama