letters

Dear Dexter (2 year letter)

Posted on by mommyinthemidwest

Dear Dexy,

Two years have whizzed by and here we are once again, celebrating another birthday.  You have been celebrating for a few days already and we’ve told you happy birthday so many times that you probably have no clue when your birthday really is.  We decided not to have a big party this year, just a few small gatherings with the people closest to our family.
Such a big kid now. 
Every time we drive past a playground, daycare, or elementary school, you shout “mommy, a playground! I wanna go there!”  You are noticing everything in your world and telling us about it. Your vocabulary and ability to initiate conversation has exploded in the last couple of months. I love being able to talk to you in the car about every little thing you see.  
You have boundless energy and enthusiasm for life.  You have started having the occasional tantrum but you don’t hold a candle to your brother in that department. Yet.  Since you were tiny, you have always been this happy little guy.  Content. Laid back and happy to go with the flow.  It doesn’t seem to bother you when your schedule changes. Without a nap, you become more hyper and less willing to listen to redirection but it doesn’t ruin your day.  Like some people (no names!). 
You might end up being our little sports fanatic.  Just like daddy.  You have shown an interest in sports on t.v. and can identify most sports balls.  You taught yourself how to dribble a basketball and will spend lots of time outside in the driveway showing us and practicing.  You also love to just throw a ball.  Or bounce a ball. Or kick a ball. Or roll a ball.  I love that you have this interest because it’s yours and yours alone. This is not something that you like because Theo does.  This is ALL YOU!  
You love mowing the grass!
  
You have such a fun, curious, and mischevious personality, but you also have such a sweet side.  You love coming into mommy & daddy’s bed early in the morning and snuggling between us.  You’ll say “I wanna sun-gull.”  You love having someone gently tickle your back or belly.  You’ll say “kickle my bell-dee!”  You love giving hugs and chisses and frequently ask for them.  You tell us all the time “I love and like you!”  Sweet, sweet, boy.  I love and like you too.  More than you’ll ever know. 
You love to eat!  You are not picky about what you eat.  For almost as long as I can remember, you’ve been stubborn about feeding yourself.  We cleaned up a lot of messes because you started this at a very young age.  Apparently independence is wearing off because now you’ll often ask for help with your spoon or help with your fork when it’s too much trouble or effort for you.  You love meat, fruit, vegetables, cheese, sweets, and salty treats.  You’re just an easy guy to please.
You and your brother are quite a silly pair together.  Sure, you push and shove and take things away from each other but often times, the best part of my day is watching you play together.  Offering to help your brother or accepting help from him.  You love each other.  One of my biggest hopes for you and Theo is that you’ll always be close. That you’ll always love, help, and support each other.  That you’ll love each other’s kids and be the coolest uncles and the best dads in town.  You’ve got a great role model. 
Dexter, your daddy and I cannot imagine life without you.  You are an incredible little boy!  I’m so proud to call you mine, even though I know you’re not, really.  I’m just housing, loving, and teaching you until you are ready to take on the world. I’m honored to be your mom.  Two is going to be amazing!
all the hugs and kisses chisses you can handle,
Mommy

letters to Theo: you’re three.

Posted on by mommyinthemidwest

Theodore Jack,

It was right around Halloween of 2009 when we found out you were a boy.  Somehow, I knew it before the ultrasound tech told us. From that moment on, we started planning for our little boy’s arrival, not knowing where this path would take us.

On March 8, 2010, you came into our world and life has never been the same.  It was the day you made me a mother.  When I  saw your face, I knew the name we picked out for you was perfect.  How is it possible that you just looked like a little Theo at birth?  After saying your name for several months, it was nice to put a face with the name and it felt entirely natural.

You. Brand new.

Here we are three years later, and I say your name countless times a day.  Sometimes out of love, sometimes out of frustration.  Most likely, out of admiration when I’m talking about you to someone else, which I do a lot.  Anyone who knows me knows that my family comes first.

One.

You’ve got a stubborn streak that I hear rivals your dad’s when he was young.  You are increasingly independent and can carry on a conversation like you’re grown.  You love cartoons and movies and would be just fine if we said you could do nothing but watch them for the rest of your life.  Too bad life’s full of disappointments, kid.

Two.

Even through the challenges, I have loved having you at 2.  We have had a busy, fun year and you have grown in so many ways.  I realize all too well that you will never be this small again. We continue traveling furiously onward like a speeding train.  You’re funny.  You’re sweet.  You’re clever.  I love hearing the things that you come up with.  You are discovering ways to manipulate situations.  You’re reasoning.  You’re thinking about options and alternatives before you speak sometimes.  It’s amazing to observe you developing this way. Sometimes I don’t know if I’m teaching you or if you’re teaching me.

You sleep in your own big boy bed.  You wear underwears (except when you’re asleep). You don’t call them “underwears” anymore but I wish you did.  You lose little pieces of your baby self every day. I never correct you when you say cute things because I know you’ll correct yourself soon enough.  You’re adorable beyond words.  You make me swoon.  Just this week, you asked me to snuggle up with you early in the morning before you were ready to get out of bed.  I needed to go shower and when I tried to slip quietly out of your bed after you closed your eyes again, you put your hand on my forearm and whispered “I don’t want you to go, mama.”  Melted my heart.  You won.  I stayed for a little while longer, just rubbing your back, smelling your hair, and kissing your head.  I know these moments with you are fleeting.

You are a big brother.  You are not always nice to your little brother, but you always love him.  Seeing your face light up as you’re playing together makes me smile.  I love watching you together. I love that you understand him when I don’t.  I love that you can calm him down when he’s upset.  I love that you two are starting to chat and have your own little conversations.  You are brothers.  I hope you’ll always be close.

You are three.  Before you’re four, you will ride in an airplane.  You’ll visit Walt Disney World.  You’ll have another Christmas at our home.  We’ll celebrate Dexter’s 2nd birthday.  We’ll spend time with family and friends like we do every year. I don’t know what else to expect for this year, but I know it will be amazing… I know that I’ll be writing that you’re four in the blink of an eye.  I don’t want to miss it but I’m excited to grow as your mother as you grow into this little man.

Three.

You are so loved, son.  So, so loved.  You have grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and countless other friends and relatives that love you.  You don’t even realize how beautiful that is or how special you are.  I am humbled by the privilege and responsibility I was given to be your mother and raise you well.  I hope you think I’m doing fine.

I love you babe.  Happy, happy, happy birthday.
Mommy

a letter to my sons: every night, before I go to bed.

Posted on by mommyinthemidwest

Every night, before I go to bed.

I shuffle down the hallway, sliding one foot past the other on the slick wood floors to avoid making any noise, until I’m standing just outside your door.  I flip on the hallway light so I don’t trip over a toy carelessly left in the middle of your bedroom floor. And so I can see your face.  I always pause at the door with my fingertips resting on the handle, just for a moment, silently asking myself if I should risk it.  With little hesitation, I slowly press down on the handle and gently push your door open just an inch or two and peer into the darkness.  I wait.  I listen for rustling blankets or changes in your breathing.  Moments later, I crack the door wide enough so that when I turn sideways, I can easily slip in.  I don’t want to let in any more light than I need.  I stand still again, waiting for my eyes to adjust.  Listening to the rhythm of your breath.  In. Out. In. Out.  Like waves in the ocean lapping the shore. Calm. Predictable.

I tiptoe over to where you sleep and admire your innocence.  Your sweetness.  I marvel at the little person you are growing into every day and at the fact that your father and I literally created you.  Brought you into this crazy world.  I pull your covers up to your chin to keep you warm throughout the night because I anticipate that I won’t see you again until morning.  I do the same thing to your brother.

Every night, before I go to bed.

I want your peaceful faces to be the last thing I see before I fall asleep.  These are a few of my favorite moments of each day that I take to bed with me.  I go to bed knowing you are warm, safe, and content.  Every day, I go to bed knowing you were kissed and hugged and told that you are loved.  I go to bed appreciating that you have a warm, safe place to lay your head at night.  That you have food in your belly and sweet dreams in your head.  That you are fortunate enough, that we all are fortunate enough, to not know the difference.  Nothing can replace the feeling of your head on my shoulder, your arms around my neck, or your voice in my ear whispering “I love you, mommy.”  I love the chaos and the hustle and bustle that we repeat, day after day. 

But these moments, every night before I go to bed….they are my favorite.

xo,
Mommy