The written word

A lot of my time lately is spent with The Princess. Not that I mind.  That little chick is hilarious and we like to get our nails done and do girly stuff together.  Having her as my constant companion is a gift in many ways. 

But the truth is, I miss my guy.  He spends oodles of time with his Dad.  They go to football games, baseball practice, basketball practice . . . everywhere together.  I know that E loves having him as a constant companion, too.  It works. And I also know that the older he gets the less I will see of him.

The sad little glimpse into the future, however, is not working for me so much.  With school, work, sports and life I only see my guy for a few hours every week. I know that is more than I can expect even a few years from now but I am missing that sweet face and warm heart of his.  We're going on a date tomorrow night.  I can hardly wait.  And if I didn't think he'd get all weirded out I'd say every single thing on this page to him, but he is a ten year old boy.  I am pretty sure that he would be uncomfortable with my sharing how madly in love with him that I am.  So, as a keepsake, I will use the written word.  I truly hope one day he'll read all of it and know how much he was loved. Every single day.

For my son,

You have ALWAYS been too good to be true.  You were the happiest, easiest baby in the history of the world.  That is an absolute fact.  Every day of my life since February 19, 2002 I have said Thank you to God for the gift that you are. I have talked before about how it terrifies me that life with you is so good, but of late I have just decided to take everything one day at a time and be genuinely grateful for every day that we have.

Life is going really, really fast for us right now.  Daddy and I are awfully busy raising you and your sister and being us, and you are so very busy being ten and living life to the fullest.  I love that part more than you will ever know.  It delights me to see you running off to practice and putting on your belt as you go or holding your sister's backpack while she climbs out of the car just before you turn away and walk into school. The spoiled selfish girl in me wants to tell you to stop and come hug ME and spend time with ME, but I love you too much to ever hold you back.  I love to watch you go and find your way, but I miss you so much. 

You are SUCH a boy with your smelly socks and your wrinkled shirts that you cram into drawers when I ask you to put them away, but I am told by someone at least once a week how kind and polite you are.  Wow.  A few weeks ago the umpire at your baseball game, Mark, came to the fence and said "who's kid is that?"  That's sort of a weird question, but I claimed you unconditionally.  He said, "He has really great manners.  He is so polite every time he's at bat.  I've never met a kid that's more polite." I can forgive the toothpaste on the mirror every time because there are a million reminders in the world that you are doing much better things than cleaning up behind yourself.

Sometimes when I am watching you from a distance and catching snippets of your conversations with friends I can imagine you much older and even further out in the world.  I visualize you trekking across a college campus chatting with your buddy on the way to class and just being a slightly larger version of your wonderful self.  I wonder what profession you'll choose.  Your sense of humanity is larger than life and you have a genuine heart for service.  You are super squeamish so I'm not thinking that being a surgeon is in your future, but think maybe physical therapy is or even a career as a high school teacher and coach.  Oh Punky, you would be such a fantastic teacher.  I selfishly want you to make more money than that, but that's just plain shallow.  You would really make a wonderful teacher.

You have so many amazing qualities that I could write a giant novel just about you and your goodness.  You're a great student, a talented athlete, a gentle soul and a wonderful Christian.  You do everything well and there are some things you are exceptional at.  Sometimes I get so focused on the doing of all that we do that I forget to stop and enjoy what we do.  I really enjoy being your Mom.  I enjoy talking with you about the Pendragon books and how that call at second base could be different.  I enjoy hearing how much other people appreciate the young man you are becoming.  I enjoy watching you play with your cousins and hearing you talk to your family.  I enjoy you.  I cherish you.  I adore you.

Thank you for all of the terrific things you are and the hope of the things that are to come.  It is such an honor to have you for a son.

With All my Love ~ Mom

p.s.  I'm thrilled you accepted my invitation for tomorrow night.  I can't wait.

My Proud Mommy Moment is all about my first born. I am so proud of him every day.