Monday, April 6, 2009
Happy Birthday little son
Eli. Dude, it is your birthday. You have made it through two whole years of life. I would congratulate you, but I am actually going to reserve some of the credit for your survival for myself. The other day we were discussing with friends the legitimate reasons-and there are many-why doctors and nurses feel the need to interrogate parents at the urgent care clinic about why they wait to bring their "hurt" children in. I commented that we would be there 3 times a day if I never waited. Enough said about that. I love you E.
I never have been a sappy parent. But your dad went to Louisville for a conference last week so we had several days to spend some quality time together. On the last night before he came home, I walked into your room to check on you-I love doing that because you are so sweet and adorable when you are asleep and I can hold you and cuddle you and pretend that you are being affectionate back...anyway. I tickled your arm for a minute, and waited for you to hold your arm out and implicitly ask for more in your sleep. I love that. Tears started falling down my cheeks, and I realized that you are not a baby, but a boy. And soon (relatively) you will be a man. And soon someone else will love you as much or more as I do. And soon you won't need me for every single little thing, like getting you a cup or milk or turning on Mickmey, cleaning ketchup out of your hair, or following you around the house aimlessly with no other purpose than to let you drag me by the pointer finger.
And I approached sadness...don't get me wrong: I am not bemoaning the fact that you are growing up, or stating the obvious that you "are getting so big!" or wishing for you to be a baby, no no no. I just took a small moment to pause and be grateful for this very short window of time I have to be the absolute, most important, numero uno person in your life. Because it won't last, I know that, and really, I don't want it to. Someday, I want someone else to love you like I love your dad, take care of you the way we take care of each other and I want you to recognize us as those who taught you not only how to do that through our example as parents, but loved you enough to want the same for you. I recognized that my role as your mother is to, first, give you life, second, take care of your basic needs, third, love you unconditionally, and fourth, release you so that you can do the same. It was basic and profound, happy and sad, humbling and exhilarating to realize how important and how fleeting my most demanding responsibilities to you really are.
I adore you Eli. I think you are the coolest and most wonderful boy around. You drive me crazy and test me in more ways than I could have possibly imagined everyday. You teach me about the important things in life and I really hope that I am doing the same for you. Happy happy birthday baby boy-here's to one more year without a "necessary" trip to Urgent Care.