Letters to my family

It’s hard to believe that the  month of May has come and gone.  I knew it would fly, considering the events of the month, but still, I’m staring down June 1 with no small amount of incredulity.

Mommy brain is in full force, so much worse than the pregnancy brain I confessed back in September.  So I thought I’d take a few minutes during a rare dual nap session to jot down a couple “love notes” before I forget to tell them the sentiments in my heart.

Dearest Erin,

You are four weeks old today.  And you have already changed a dozen times over.  You are making more sounds, your movements are more frequent (though still not very controlled), you are alert for longer stretches, and you are looking more like your daddy each day.  Your eyes are still blue, and as each day passes, I hope just a little more that they will stay that way.  You still pretty much only eat and sleep, and you have yet to show us any type of schedule preference, but, eh….it’ll come.

You have started to cave out your Erin-sized niche in my heart.  I wasn’t sure, when you first showed up.  Truly.  There was a very large part of me that was afraid I wasn’t going to get to keep you either, so I was a little (ok, a lot) hesitant to really open up to you.  But it’s coming.  Thank you for being patient with me, love.

Keep twisting, little one.  I’ll be completely wrapped around your finger in no time at all.

**********

Dear Seth,

There is a quote somewhere that says something to the effect that mothers are the bravest of all people because we choose to let our heart run around outside our body.  How true, how true.  You are, literally, running circles around me right now, and even through layers of exhaustion, I see the little boy you are becoming.

Your vocabulary is extraordinary.  You’re loving and sweet to Erin.  You are funny.  The other day, you, Gramma, and I were in the backyard and an airplane flew overhead.  You were so excited.  You stopped what you were doing, looked up expectantly at the sky, and shouted: “Nonna!  Jump out!  I’ll catch up!!!” 

Your hearing has become a little more “selective,” but we’re working on that.  You listen when it’s most important, so we’ll just spend a little more time working on listening whether or not you think it’s convenient. ;)

You are rolling with the punches of summer travel, various beds, and Erin’s arrival like the champ I knew you’d be, but still.  I’m so proud of you.

Your rock, Roni-man.  I’m so glad you’re my outside-heart.

**********

Dear Jim,

I have been meaning to tell you for a while now…but as you well know, my brain isn’t functioning at full capacity.  Am I even at 50%?  Who knows?

Anyways, I have to say it now, before any more time passes: I love you, and I’ve noticed.  I’ve noticed that you have been making extra effort to speak my love language.  You’ve been complimentary and sweet and you have said all the right things at all the right times, from telling me that you think I’m a fantastic mom to reassuring me that my stretch marks (both north and south) are barely visible and that you think I look great.  Thank you for being so tender and for holding my heart carefully in these first few postpartum weeks.

I miss you already, and you’ve only been gone for a few hours.  I’m so proud of you – for the job you’ve done at DD, and for the faith that Jason has put in you.  I’m not thrilled that you’re flying so far away from me, but I’m proud of you for taking this new step.  I told Seth he rocks, and I know he gets is all from you.

I love you so much, and I look forward to looking back on this chapter of our lives – with all the others, too – with you.