Tuesday, September 10, 2013

A Letter to My Only Child

Dear Eli, 
This morning, as we went through our morning routine, I felt so overwhelmed with loving you and this little life of habits we have. For now, and for who knows how much longer, you are my only child. These days will never come back, and I don't want to forget a single thing of this little life we have built. Giving you a big family, siblings, is a gift. I know that. But some things will be lost in the journey. 
You started this morning, like most mornings, with a request "Mama's bed?" You like to take your blanket, and pillow pet, and assortment of other stuffed things onto our bed in the morning. You cuddle for a bit if you're tired, or immediately crawl to the headboard if you're awake. Many mornings, we see tractors driving by the window at the head of the bed. "Dig-Digs!" you exclaim. We watch them for awhile...we wake up slow. Sometimes, you like to play a game with the window unit AC. We turn it off, then on, and you giggle and say "Cold mama!!" as it blows your cute little hair straight up. At some point, you ask for "Stairs?" and call your pup-pup, making some kissy noises at him. Then we head down to start our day. 
There's some things I know I do with you that I won't be able to do with the next child, and things you will have to give up. You're a slow waker, a grumbly morning person until you get some food in your belly. You will be a coffee addict, I can already tell. Most mornings, we share a yogurt sitting on the couch watching PBS, eating from a spoon shaped like a backhoe. I put the spoon in your mouth for you, mostly to not make a mess, but also cause its just what we do.  An indulgence for an only child, a first child. Embarrassing maybe, for me, but its our routine. 
Lately, we have been going out to the garage in the morning to let your new kitty out. A little stray that found its way to you, you have a heart of gold and a special touch with animals. That's something you get from your birthmom, and I love that about you. You run around the yard chasing "TiTi" which is how you say kitty kitty...making kissy noises as you call him. Sometimes, when you need me, you say "mama!" and make kissy noises the same way you do for the dog or cat. I love it. 
I love how when we see a tractor, backhoe, or any large machine, you sit down on the ground, wherever we are, and pat the ground next to you. "Mama!" you yell. Come sit with me. Just watch this with me. Don't rush. Just watch. 
You have several categories of vehicles- cars, Pap-Pap trucks (pickups), Macks (big trucks), Scoop-scoops (ones with scoops, duh), Dig-digs (ones that dig, but don't scoop. I don't know the distinction), and Wee-oohs. Which is anything with a siren that goes weee-ooooh....I love how a new matchbox car will make your entire day. Nintey-seven cents of pure joy. You have a million. But I know which ones are your favorite. I will search high and low for the certain one you want, because for now, I have the time to do so. 
I love when we walk in the park, and a car comes, how you anxiously grab my hand and pull me into the grass for safety. "Oh, mama! Car!" you exclaim with such concern for my well-being. If we have the stroller, you yell "Hweeel!!!!!" if the wheel is not off the road. You're a little over-anxious about cars on the road, but I would rather have that then you not be cautious! Your sweet protective little soul makes me tear up. 
We have a million moments, a million little inside jokes and things that make you just look at me and smile cause you know its our "thing." Pouring a little water on the table after a meal to play in the "pudds" or puddles. Getting a little yogurt on a matchbox car purposefully because one time I was silly and licked it off.  Standing and watching the fountain at church. Sitting in a booth at Subway sharing a cookie (Ok, or each eating our own...sharing sounds so much healthier) . All the quiet one-child moments, they are so special to me. 
But more than any of them, its those morning cuddles. Life will get busy- buses to catch, appointments to get to, other children to tend, you will get too busy for me or to cool or whatever. We won't always live here, surrounded by farms. We won't always live in an old house with a window unit AC. But I want to always remember those lazy mornings, watching the dig-digs pass by. Blowing cool air on our faces and giggling, wrapped in a Lightning McQueen blanket. 
Love you nugget, 
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  1. This made me cry. I knew you were amazing when I met you (God's light definitely shine's through you). This is an awesome example. Thank you for sharing! :)
    Kristina (from the JBF sale!)

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