Dear Son, I wish you knew.
Thirteen years ago you made me a mom. And I wish you knew how much I loved that time.
And now you’re taller than I am. How can this be?
I know I’ve told you before that you were an easy baby, that your Daddy and I thought we were the BEST of parents. It’s not until your little sister arrived almost three years later that we realized, NOPE—we just had a really easy kid the first time around.
Oops.
But there are a few things I imagine I haven’t told you about when you were little, when it was just you and me during the long days while your dad was at work that I wish you knew. I look at our life now, as a family of five, and the truth is: I love it. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
But the truth ALSO is: there are days I would give anything to go back in time and live your babyhood over again just one more time. And there are more than a few things I wish you could remember.
I wish you knew how much I held you just because I could. I wish you knew how I drank in the sight of your sweet face, delighted in every smile you gave me, how every time I made you laugh I felt like I’d won the world’s most sought-after prize.
I wish you knew how much joy you brought me every day. I wish you knew how every. single. sound that came out of your mouth delighted me to no end. I wish you could see me staring at you lovingly while you slept, even. These days you hear a lot of “wash your face,” and “do your chore,” from me—I am trying to prepare you to become an adult, all the while longing for your baby days.
So I wish you could remember a time when all you heard from me was “I love you,” and “You make Mommy so happy.” I wish you could remember the million and one terms of endearment that rolled off my lips for you every day. You were my sidekick, sweetheart, and we were a good team.
