Last month, we celebrated J’s third birthday! Time, would you slow down? I can’t seem to catch up. It was relatively low-key, no fanfare, no birthday party. I sent cupcakes to his daycare so he got to celebrate with his friends (his teacher told me he made sure to ask everyone which flavor they wanted). Then later that evening, we had dinner with J’s great-grandma (my grandmother) and he got a few gifts. The next day, Grandma (my mom) had a delicious banana-cream cake so J could blow out candles.
I’ve been saying “I love this stage” at nearly every stage but for real, this stage is so much fun.
J,
You’re three! And I’m an emotional mess as I try to string together the words to describe what you mean to me, how special you are, how my heart seems to just swell more and more with love for you each day.
You are my pride, my joy, the apple of my eye.
It was three years ago that you made your grand entrance into this world and ever since, my world has quite literally been flipped, turned upside down and not a day has gone by that I have not been overwhelmed with joy that I get to be your mama. Lately, I can’t seem to stop gushing about you to your daddy. Every day, you say and do things that amaze me, that crack me up, that touch my heart.
Your imagination never ceases to astound me. Lately, your thing is making up songs, lyrics and melodies but it doesn’t stop there. Suddenly, a blanket becomes a magic carpet, a deck becomes a boat we’re sailing on and we catch fish and clams and squid that we cook and devour. I’m thankful I get to tag along for the adventures.
You ask questions, lots of them. You love your National Geographic books, delving into the Animal Kingdom, finding out every tidbit of information you can about various different species. You are particularly curious of what animals eat. And I get to learn alongside you.
You observe. You take things in. You notice the little things that I am so quick to steamroll past. As you are in awe and wonder of the world and all the things in it, I am in awe of you. How you were once growing in my womb, fully dependent on me for everything. And now, you are fully your own self, expressive, vibrant, emotional, compassionate.
You stall bedtime with a myriad of tactics. But mainly, you say, “But I like being with you, mommy” and I melt. Into a big, gooey puddle. Truth be told, I swing between wanting to be consistent with your bedtime routine and letting myself be a puddle when I realize this too will pass. Sooner or later, you won’t want to sleep next to me, nestled in my arms.
A few weeks ago, with coronavirus wreaking havoc, you stayed home with me from daycare and I cherished every moment with you. On a casual trip to the playground, you biked around and I leisurely walked behind you. I watched you stop to look at a map of the park (just like your daddy does) and then when you saw a leaf on the ground, you noted it was pretty and picked it up for me. You teach me to slow down and notice.
Three sounds so little and so big at the same time. And I’m not quite sure how a three-year-old can be so beyond your years but you are. You embrace me with more grace and teach me humility.
You’ve taken the news that you’re going to be a big brother like a boss. With better poise than your mama. And this transition has just shone a spotlight on your tender heart - during the peak of my morning sickness, you prayed for mommy, you ran ahead of me to open the bathroom door only to then tap my back as I hugged the toilet bowl and threw up. You played doctor, checking my vitals and feeding me medicine to feel better. You even went to daycare and declared to all your teachers that mommy has a baby growing in her belly. Now, you voluntarily come to kiss mommy’s belly and talk to baby.
Lately, you’ve been telling your teacher that “Jesus is in my heart” and that He casts all your fears (monsters) away. And today, you hopped off the bus and told me, “Mommy, I like my teacher” and then squeezed my cheeks saying, “Mommy, why are you so cute?”
I would be lying if I were to say it has been smooth sailing all the time. You are fully a “threenager”, making sure to let us know when you’re unhappy. When things don’t go your way, you don’t hesitate to give us a piece of your mind. And at moments like these, I realize how much of a sponge you are, absorbing every phrase and word we use: “Mommy, do you want to get in trouble?” The other night, when we didn’t give you cake at bedtime, you told us you were going to go away, far far away, to Uncle Timmy, Aunt Ashley, Laila and Emmy. I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry.
J,
I hope you know that you are so loved, so blessed and you bring so much joy to those around you. You were prayed for long before you were conceived, by many all over the world.
Thank you for coming into this world as my baby and letting me become a mama.
I love you.