I wish I had started writing these letters when The Girl was a baby instead of starting with her fifth birthday. Better late than never though. I plan to put them in their memory boxes, since I am definitely not a scrapbooker.
So without further ado, my letter to The Boy:
When I was younger I used to dream of having a little girl someday. I never dreamt about a little boy.
I should have. I am now experiencing first hand the wonderful bond between a mother and son. You get to me in a way that no one else does.
Like tonight - I was already a bit emotional getting ready to put you to bed for the last time as one-year-old. As I sang your song (To Make You Feel My Love - Bob Dylan/Garth Brooks) you stared right into my tear filled eyes and tried to sing along in your sweet little toddler voice. Then you put your sweet dimpled hands on my cheeks and kissed me. That is one moment I will cherish forever.
Puppy - What a difference a year makes. One year ago today you weren't walking or saying much. Then you became an Olympic speed crawler, and before we knew it you were walking, letting yourself into all of our rooms, reaching on top of our counters, emptying cabinets and getting into all kinds of trouble, including but not limited to bumping your forehead at every turn. You are the child that introduced me to late-night emergency room trips, stitches and bleeding in the waiting room of quick care.
Your excitement level is like nothing I have ever witnessed—your dad and I, as well as everyone who knows you, get a very big kick out of it. When you get excited about something—like a cookie, you squeal with joy as if it's the first time you've tasted one. Your excitement over these everyday things vibrates from your fingers down to your toes. Your whole body stiffens and quivers adorably.
Of course now the tantrums have come around but that was to be expected. Let’s just say, you know what you want, and when and how you want it. You are very authoritative and getting more and more communicative every day.
You are one of a kind, Chase—and I’m not just saying that because you’re my son. You are so much fun to be around; your passion for life is contagious.
You are such an independent little guy too: We no longer feed you—you insist on feeding yourself. We no longer have to brush your teeth for you—you insist on brushing your own teeth, with your own toothbrush.
I am the luckiest and proudest mom of the most beautiful and hilarious two-year-old boy ever. Everything I do in life, I do for you. (Please remember that the next time you throw a fit or a toy car at my head)
Happy 2nd Birthday to my sweet boy.