Friday, August 31, 2012

A Letter to My Boys

You started back to daycare this week and I'm missing you like crazy already.  To be honest, I was a bit nervous about being at home just me and BOTH of you boys once Daddy started back to work, but we found a rhythm easily.  Now I can't believe how fast those few weeks went.  On your first day back, when I told you I'd miss you, but to have fun, you said, "But I'm just gonna go play with my friends all day," like it was no big deal at all.  You'd missed them, and they apparently missed you, too because when you returned, they attacked you with hugs at the door and fought over who got to sit by you at storytime, in music, at lunch, etc.  But the icing on the cake that day was picking you up and watching your reunion with Bennett.  He'd been fussy most of the day (probably missing you) and the two of you laughed harder than I've ever heard either of you all the way home.  You've not cried once at drop off and that more than anything shows me just how grown up you've gotten over the summer.

You're so grown up, in fact, that I couldn't believe what a pro ring bearer you were at your Uncle Matthew's wedding.  You're usually shy around people you don't know, and I thought for sure that you'd chicken out when you saw everyone staring at you, but you smiled a big hamball smile and walked down that aisle no problem.  Daddy and I were so proud of you we were both in tears.  Big saps we are.

You're a whiz at puzzles now and we're constantly trying to find you one that is hard enough for you to have to think about.  Even puzzles with several pieces have become pretty easy for you now.  Pretending is also one of your strong suits, filling our days with imaginary friends and places.  I think part of your imagination comes to the surface because you love making people laugh.  And for a three-year-old, you're pretty damn funny, kid.

Recently, you've had me cracking up by telling stories about when you were "little."  We constantly hear, "When I was little, I usually..."  This is usually in response to being told you can't do something.  Just this week I heard you say, "When I was little, I usually walked across the street by myself."  Or "When I was little, I usually ate snacks before dinner."  Sometimes, though, it's other things, like "When I was little, I was usually an angel."  Or "When I was little, I was usually a teacher and I told the kids they could play outside."

You're growing up so fast, buddy.  I got all misty this week when I bought your new backpack for preschool.  You start next week and can't wait "to go on field trips" and "play on the big playground."  I'm not quite so ready for those things because you still seem too little to be ready for all of that.  I've always known parenting included letting go, I just didn't realize it would start happening so soon.  But, I'm trying, and I promise to keep trying, because I know you'll always seem "too young" to me.  Thankfully, you're still young enough that you'd like me to come along on a few of those field trips this year.  :)

I love you more,

You've gotten so delectably chubby recently that you are in constant danger of me chewing your thighs clean off.  Though you've always been big, the baby fat has reached what I imagine has to be a peak as your knees no longer exist, completely overtaken by the rolls in your thighs.  You've got cellulite for goodness sake.  In fact, when someone sees you for the first time, one of the first reactions is usually, "Oh my...look at those thighs!"  Now that your brother has returned to daycare, our days consist mostly of me nom, nom, nomming on your cheeks, your arms, your thighs.  Thankfully, you cannot get away from me yet so I'm hoping to get a few more weeks of torture in before you start crawling.

It won't be long, though, because even before you turned five months old you were already sitting up unassisted and scooting on your tummy to reach whatever coveted possession was just out of reach.  Your motor skill ability constantly amazes me and terrifies me at the same time.  I'm already in a panic about what to do with Gavin's swallowable toys once you're on the move.

As much as I'm missing your brother, I am so glad I have this extra time just you and me before I go back to work.  This is my very favorite baby time.  When you're non-mobile (kind of), super-happy, and still pretty snuggly, too.  I'm soaking up every second I can and trying to figure out how to bottle up the perfect little wonder that you are.

Not so perfect this month was your very first cold.  It sucked.  Period.  I hope we don't have to repeat it again for a great long while.  Partially due to the cold, and probably just because you're getting to that age, you've started a bit of separation anxiety.  It usually only shows up if you're not feeling well or if you're tired or hungry, but when it does, it's quite possibly the saddest thing I've ever seen.  Even if Daddy or I are holding you, if someone else tries to talk to you or hold you, your face scrunches up and that bottom lip comes out, followed shortly by a sad little whimper and then a full-on cry.

You start daycare in three short weeks, and seemed to really like your daycare room, the other babies and your teachers when we went to the open house this week.  No scrunchy face or anything!  I know you'll be ready, and you'll do just fine...but I'm not quite ready to talk about it just yet.  Today, daycare is still many days away and I'm suppressing the heart pangs that threaten to kill me every time I think about leaving you.

I love you more,

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