Tonight you bit me on the cheek, hard, and I let out a yelp. You pulled back and your eyes got wide and you had, “Sorry Mama!” written all over your face. I melted. I am so glad you aren’t old enough to realize how easily you could manipulate me with that look. “Mom? I kinda wrecked the car…” Cue cute face and you’re forgiven.
You are eight months old. You pull up, walk while scooting Everly’s chair across the floor for support, annoy Everly regularly because you are not quiet enough, and you arch your back and fling yourself around when you aren’t in agreement with something we’re doing. You’re teething like a mad man, you have two bottom teeth all the way through, two top teeth all the way through, and four on their way. You have been more fussy than usual with some middle of the night wakings that your dad has actually taken care of for the most part.
This past month has been a little strange and busy, with some bad news pouring in. But one thing has stayed consistent, and that’s your sweet, happy heart. You keep me laughing, even when I’m having the “worst” day. Did you know laughing lowers stress levels, boosts immunity, strengthens relationships, and relaxes your body? Laughter is powerful and it is something I love to do. I love hearing other people do it, too… and your laugh… I’ll do anything to hear it. I act crazy & sound crazy & I’ll do it my whole life because it’s worth every ounce of laughter I can squeeze out of your precious little belly.
PS) The way you nuzzle up into me when I kiss you in this video? ARE YOU SERIOUS? Yes.
You feed yourself, can drink from a straw sippy, and stand up in your crib and bounce when you want picked up. You try to aggravate your sister by taking whatever she’s focusing on. When I sit in the floor with you, you crawl over to me and climb on my body like I’m a gymnasium and you’ll put your head on my shoulder for a minute and rest and I am yours, a MILLION times I am yours.
Random, but the other day you were eating a newspaper and I took it from you and you attacked me, lunging at me and covering me in slobbery disapproval. If that was indicative about your personality as a toddler and eventually a kid then things are gonna be fun times Time Out Land here in another year or so. Can’t wait! You also shoved a ginormous piece of bread into your mouth when we went out to eat at an upscale restaurant to celebrate various special occasions with your grandma, grandpa, and Uncle Cliffy. You somehow molded the bread into the roof of your mouth like a retainer, gagged yourself, and projective vomited all over me while everyone stared. I didn’t realize the bread was up there until like an hour later when you smiled at me so big I could see it hanging behind your teeth. I scraped it out with my fingernail.
It was an awesome moment in parenting and in life.
I love you, baby boy. I love your hair and how it’s getting longer. I love your eyes, your dimples, your teensy weensy teeth. I love the way you smell, the way you look with just a diaper, the way you bury into me and sigh with relief when you’ve been crying and I come to you.
I would give up my life for you, feel every pain the world has to give in order to secure your health and happiness. I know no other way to explain the magnitude of my feelings for you. And as powerful as they are, the magnitude of God’s feelings for you are… wow. They’re beyond my grasp, beyond my writing ability. God loves you fiercely, even when you mess up, even when you’re furious. He is the one that gave me the capability of mothering you. I want you to know him, Beckett. I want you to be able to talk to him the way I can. He listens. If you get sleepy and fall asleep while you’re praying, he laughs and talks to you in the morning. If you are scared, he surrounds you with his comforting protection. When you’re in the dark corner of life and everyone has stopped fighting for you, he holds out his hand and shows you how to fight for yourself & how to lean on him when you’re too weak to go on. He will not fix everything for you, Beckett. But he’ll help you cope with things being broken.
He always has your back, and so do I.
I love you, son.
Love,
Mama
