A Letter to my Son (15 months)

To my sweet boy:

I am so thankful you have been in my life for 15 whole months now. You have grown in leaps and bounds, and your energy and your character have added light to this world, my little shooting star. Your sweet voice fills our household with joy and laughter. You are already such an encouraging little person and a hard worker. I already respect you. I already feel this pang in my gut every time I have to tell you “no”. One day, you will have to learn to tell yourself, “no”, and one day, I will trust you to do so. But, it may be a while. 

In the last 2 weeks, you have become a little boy, and I feel challenged every day, by you. Emotionally, we are going through a bit of a growth spurt together. In a strange way, it feels like it did when you were first born. I have a feeling that this will happen several times during our lifetime, for we are like wild rivers who can never truly be tamed or diverted. Our waters will flood our banks in their own time, which doesn’t really belong to us. 

Thank you for making your dad and I breakfast this morning. The maple syrup was a nice touch to the garlic cloves and the bottle of vanilla extract. We also thank you for putting all of your raisins in your dumptruck and for giving Curious George a generous drink of your milk this morning. Maybe he will have a jumpshot like yours one day, if he continues to drink all of his milk like a big boy. 

The best part of my day is in the morning when your dad and I get to make a giant hug sandwich with our boy. I wonder how old you will be before you get too old for hug sandwiches? 

I love you, Bubba,

Love, Momma

*This post was inspired by my friend Erin, whose Grandmother recently passed away. Erin had shared how thankful she was to have her Grandmother's handwritten letters to her during this time, and it got me thinking about the significance of letters because they really are true snapshots of our heart's intentions in that moment. May your intentions be blessed this week, and may your dumptrucks be overflowing with raisins.