Happy Birthday to My Little Love

I lied.

With the best of intentions, I sat down last week to jot down some funny anecdotes about how my hubby leaves the kitchen cabinet doors open, garbage on the counters, clothes in the dryer, and never, ever replaces the freakin' toilet paper roll...Like that's sooo hard!? Blogtime ended mid-thought by an early end to my almost two-year-old's nap.

Two. How did that happen already? Two years full of love, laughter and memories. And then the tears started.

In the first blog post, I shared that the purpose of this blog is for my children. To be frank, there's an overarching fear within me that my life will be cut short and they won't have all of the information they need or won't be able to hear my "voice". At their births, I began a separate journal of letters to my children; today, I'm sharing a letter written for my Birthday Boy. So, there you have it. I lied. This post may make your eyes leaky.

October 14, 2014

Dear Jimmy, My "Little Love"...
Happy Birthday, Jimbo!

I love and hate that you are two. I love that you can say "two," but I hate that it's time for you to give up your pacifier. Two years of giggles and tears every single day (sometimes within minutes of each other) and two years of filling up my heart with a gratitude and a wholeness I have never felt until you came along. From your first breath, you have taken mine away, and have done so each moment thereafter. My life begins and ends with you; thank you for being mine.

You are growing, growing, growing so fast. Stop it already. Seriously.

I think of all you have learned in this last year and am in awe: run, jump, dance, speak, create...all of these came to you so naturally and are parts of your unbending daily routine.

Part of your daily "schtick" centers around music. Maybe that has something to do with your father, who is far more musical than your tone-deaf mother (you actually cry when I sing to you sometimes)... Or more honestly, I think your musicality comes from the Anesthesiologist, who, in the moments before your birth, thought background music was an absolute necessity. U2's Greatest Hits (doctor's choice!) echoed throughout the OR and at the moment I first saw you, "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" was playing. Bono couldn't have been more wrong.

You were exactly what I was looking for, exactly what I needed. You came to me when my heart was so full of grief because GeeGee had walked the Rainbow Bridge just a mere 3 months prior. How your personality from Day 1 was so effortless and enjoyable after growing alongside a broken heart defies all logic. You are a miracle baby. You will always be my baby. 2, 22 or 82 years old. Always.

Jimmy, I wish you more love and laughter and as many trucks, cartoons and dance parties as you can handle in this upcoming year. I hope the music in your heart continues to play wherever you go, your feet keep you skipping along, your left-arm fastball to stay out of the house and your snuggles and sharing and learning never end. But the teething?...the teething can go any time now.

I love you. Always.
Love,
Mama
xoxo