My VBAC baby. The one who was born with a broken clavicle and never once flinched. You nursed like a champ, snuggled like a pro, and were the happiest baby on the planet…as long as you were in my arms and ONLY my arms! You’ve known what you wanted from the day you entered this world, and you’ve yet to stop going after it. You have been the hardest, yet most rewarding. You make me work until I think I’ll break, yet you make me better.
No one loves me the way you do.
I see you watching me, copying me. You hold your cup like I do, brush your hair from your face like I do. I hear the cadence of my speech in your small voice. I know these days are short-lived. I hold on to them, taking mental snapshots, because I never want to forget how fiercely you’ve loved me.
You are soft, yet strong.
You are kind, yet tenacious.
You are demanding, yet gracious.
Your baby sister looks at you the way you look at me, and I wonder how I got this lucky to witness such a miracle unfold.
You announce when you’re going to talk to yourself so no one interrupts your pretend world. You are creative and open, a book with infinite pages waiting to be filled with adventures and successes and disappointments and heartbreaks and triumphs.
You still can’t pronounce your R’s and I love it. When you started saying spaghetti correctly, I died a little inside. You dress yourself in the mornings, have very strong opinions about…well, everything, and you easily cry at any injustice. Your heart is bigger than the rest of you which will, eventually, serve you well.
YOU. DRIVE. US. CRAZY.
You ask the same question 10 times 10 different ways hoping for the answer you want because NO is never an option. Pouting and whining and doing your own thing. It’s maddening.
It’s also how I know you’ll always be OK.
We ask you to speak louder, so you purposely make your voice quieter. You wait until I’m on the phone or in a meeting to “re-yee, re-yee need something.” You’ve earned the nickname BB and when you’re old enough, I’ll explain what it means to be a ball breaker…
Afraid to give the wrong answer, you’re quick with an “I don’t know,” but I hope, with time, your confidence grows and you’ll trust yourself to try. Life is trying. You won’t always be right, but that’s often when we learn the most important lessons.
You smile big and love bigger than anyone I know. Seriously, I think you’re going to break your face if you smile any harder.
You thrive on praise. A “GREAT JOB” sends you to cloud nine, where you spend the next several minutes reveling in the glory that is making someone else happy. You are thoughtful and kind and beautiful and smart and, at such a young age, appreciate the inner workings of people. Those big brown eyes say so much. So do you because you never stop talking ever, but you wear your heart on your sleeve and on your face just like me. You may look like Daddy, but you’re alllll me. And I couldn’t be prouder.