A slice of heaven

A little over two years ago I was a bloated whale awaiting the birth of my first child. Ok so maybe not a whale, more of a cow since I wasn’t as big as most people get at least in the belly. I did my homework well in advance of delivery. I knew there were no clear cut answers during pregnancy, and I knew the idea of a perfect delivery was being childish. There were no real surprises during delivery, because I had prepared myself for every scenario. What I didn’t know was how to be a mother. There are no real books or advice that can tell you how to do it. You are either born with that in you or you’re not.

My son turned two a few days ago and although we didn’t have a blow out celebration, it was a big occasion. While I watched him eat his chocolate cake, I went over every second that I could remember since he was born. The first few weeks of little sleep and hours upon hours of breastfeeding. Of feeling like I was lost in a sea of diapers and emotions and falling deeper and deeper by the second with no help in sight. But behind all that was pure awe over the little creature that my hubby and I created. We were in charge of taking care of him and of helping him grow up into a man who could change the world. Ok so that may be a bit far but aren’t we all here to help shape the world in some way? Who he becomes is going to be because of us, and that is the best feeling in the world. And of course the knowledge that we can take him down and beat some sense into him if he becomes a criminal or the next Barney the dinosaur.

I have this little man in my house that walks like my father, acts and looks like my husband and laughs like me. It is the weirdest thing in the world to look at him and see so many people in that little package. How is it possible that he automatically walks like my dad? With his shoulders back, his chest puffed out and a slight strut. He’s quiet, he’s self entertained, and he’s well behaved, exactly how my husband was as a child. Yet when he laughs, it’s me in his smile, in his eyes and in his laugh. It makes me wonder whose habits and traits I have of my ancestors.

Little man, you truly are my purpose. You are my world, my heart and soul. You teach me daily that I hide myself away from the world too much. You don’t hide, you jump in and explore and that is something I have never known how to do. Promise you’ll show me how. Holding you in my arms is the best feeling in the world because you are my missing piece. I feel myself in you, just as I feel you father in you. I worship these days when you are small because they are all we get. You will never be 2 again and learning how to talk. One day you’ll be able to say chocolate milk and I won’t hear tata mu uh again. Now I understand why people don’t work so hard on getting their kids to say words properly. It is just too cute the way you say them wrong. One day you daddy and I will no longer be your hero’s; you’ll discover Superman who can fly and see through walls. We will of course understand, because our hero’s were the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. I will miss seeing you run like a madman toward the door screaming DADDY at the top of your lungs when your father walks in the door. I will miss hearing hi Mama when I walk in your bedroom in the morning. I will miss the cute way you say I love you in such a way I can’t even try to mimic with words. Everything you do I will miss once you are grown and out on your own. But right now, while you are still tiny enough to cuddle in my lap, I’m going to smother you in kisses and love. I love you my little man, with your wild hair, contagious smiles, and your odd ability to make any situation funny. God help us if you ever do get into trouble, because I will probably break down with tears from laughing so hard at you pretending innocence.