Dear Monkey Man,
I cannot believe it’s been just 3 short years that you’ve been in our lives. It seems like you were never not here. Was there a time when I walked through my home and didn’t pick up some tiny toy that was sure to put a hole in my foot? Was there a time when I looked forward to the weekends so that I could sleep late? Was there a time that I wasn’t worried every millisecond of the day for your life now, tomorrow, and when you’re 75? No. I’m convinced that before you was a dream—and you really were with us all the while.
You have grown from a helpless infant to a big boy who helps mommy “clean” (read: unsweeps the neat little pile that I just swept), tells me stories about the roosters you saw with Poppy and tells us they say "crock a doodle doo", and plays basketball, baseball, football, and golf and then asks me, “Can I play tennis, too?” It makes my brain hurt when I really think about how you started and what you’ve become. And you are only 3. Let me apologize now, because I will be that mom who bawls hysterically at your high school graduation. And if you get married, forget it. I’m done. I’ll cling to you during our mother-son dance like a crazed mama bear keeping her baby cub away from all the dangers in the world.
Turning 3 has proven to be quite the milestone in your life. You just moved into your big boy bed the day before your birthday. Last night, as I checked on you before I went to sleep, it hit me – I will never see you in your crib again. Funny how I’m not too sentimental about the other milestone – potty training. I haven’t found myself thinking, “I’ll never change his poopy diaper again.”
Everyday, and I mean everyday, you amaze me with your words, your thoughts, your actions, and your sense of humor - your you being you. This blog that I started just a few months before your 3rd birthday is in honor of you – a keepsake of my memories of everything you’ve given me (and sometimes taken, sleep for instance). I hope you will read these stories when you’re older and learn about whom you were, are, and all the joy you brought me while becoming that beautiful person.
I love you to the moon and back. Bunches and bunches.
Sweet cheeks, Lovebug –