I’m yours.

Last week your dad and I were dancing in the kitchen and you walked over in your dinosaur pajamas and wedged your little hands between us, pushed us apart and then scolded your dad with one little finger putting out at him with a very serious look on your face that quickly evaporated into a smile. I’m yours, and no one else’s and you wanted to be sure that even dad knew that.

I loved it.

You cry at the doctor’s when they put the blood pressure cuff around my arm or rub that gel on my stomach to prepare for the doppler. You don’t want anyone messing with your mom without your permission. I’m yours. And buddy, you’re mine.


Your little ego rests in my hour by hour response to every little thing you learn, discover, achieve. I want you to see it in my eyes how amazingly special I think you are, how clever, how witty, how sweet, how sassy. The entire time I was pregnant with you, I wondered what you would be like, what kind of person you’d be. At 18 months, I know.

If there is music playing, whether it be in a car driving by, on a commercial, in a clothing store, restaurant or in an elevator, you will hear it and start to either attempt to snap your fingers, sway your head or dance. You sometimes throw the records around as if to say “mom! music!” In the car, you’ll fuss if I turn down the volume to talk to a friend, you’ll fuss if the song is too intense. You like dance beats, funk, soul, folk and ballads. ONLY. You give your opinion of a song quickly and decisively. And I must say, you have great taste in music. You love Pharrell, Ryan Macklemore, Holl and Oates, Prince, Tedeschi Trucks, Stevie Wonder, Al Green, Damien Rice, Ray Lamontagne etc. So cute.

You are a little jokester and your comedic timing is right on. You have these super coy expressions where you roll your eyes slowly to the side while cocking your head just to see our reaction, you arch your back slowly and fall back, legs straight onto your giant stuffed animal dog that you call puppy. You definitely enjoy an audience.

Ball! Ball! Ball! This was all you said for months. After “dis” aka this, mama and dada, ball was your go to word. You see a spherical shape pretty much everywhere we go, from the balloons at a birthday party, gumballs in a gumball machine, light bulbs, oranges, grapes, chickpeas, the list goes on. I for one never realized how many things were shaped like balls. For months, you thought everything was a ball meant for tossing, kicking, rolling and catching and now, you really are throwing the ball and catching it too. Dad and Pop Pop have already managed to brainwash you into thinking golf is cool and now you pull out daddy’s putter and golf balls and make me putt to you. Now, if I could just get you to understand that some balls are soft enough to launch towards my head and others… not so much.

I feel like you’re a little engineer in the making. You love twisting caps onto containers and making things out of two random toys, or extending the length of your bottle by fitting it into my drinking glass, first pouring out the water onto our living room rug. I tried to get you into coloring but you were more into pulling the caps off the gel crayons, stacking them and putting them back on than you were the color on the page. You stack things that weren’t meant to be stacked. You sort things by color. You love building things up but rarely tear them down.

You say mama, dada, dis, nana, pop pop, ball, puppy, happy, backback, please, Lena, yes, no, bop it (not sure what that means), and ups. You sign all done, eat, drink and fish.

You love animals, you pretend your big stuffed animal dog is real. You try to feed him, you wrestle him, you bounce on his back, you kiss him and you run to him when we get home. You love the squirrel outside our window and you stop in your tracks with glee every time you see an animal on TV or out and about.

You are fearless, you climb up on the coffee table and dining table and dance around, you stand with one leg at the top of your slide, you have mastered the stairs so well that we never use the gate and you will play outside by yourself for quite some time. If I leave the door open long enough for you to sneak through, you are out the door and running down the sidewalk. Of course, you never get very far but still. You literally have no fear. I pour water over your head in the tub and you laugh, you even bend down to submerge your face into the water. I can’t wait to really swim with you and throw you about in the ocean or pool. So fun.

You are a sass, you love saying no now and you know exactly when you are being naughty and you think it’s a riot. Sometimes I struggle not to laugh back.

Oh my god, you’re a flirt. You love the ladies. Young and old. You know how to smile for the older ladies until your eyes squint and you go right in for the kisses with all your little friends under 3. You are not shy. Not even a little bit. You love the older boys, you think they are the coolest and you laugh the whole time you are around them.

I was watching a show the other day called “undercover boss” where these very deserving people were rewarded for their time and efforts at the end of it and I started to cry in the middle of the day. You can blame pregnancy hormones but you shouldn’t because I totally have cried watching this show when not pregnant. You were playing on the floor and looked up to see me crying with a smile on my face. You realized that these were good tears and just kept saying “happy!? happy!?” and then crawled into my lap. You’ve developed empathy and care for others already and I couldn’t have been more proud of you in that moment.

I know things are going to get a little more chaotic around here soon and I wanted to be sure that I stopped to soak up all that you are before your brother arrives.

I want you to know that my love for you grows with you, it will never be watered down no matter how many little siblings come your way. I fall more in love with you the more you grow into the person you are meant to be. You are truly my dream unfolding before my eyes and I cherish these moments so much. I look forward to seeing who you are as a big brother and listening to you tell me stories. You are just dying to tell stories, I can tell. You have so much that you want to say. For now though, I enjoy your babble and your occasional “no!” or “happy!”.

My love for you is more than I can even quench by holding your little body, or praying for you while you sleep. Your life itself overwhelms me with a gratefulness that I have never known until now. You’re amazing to me and I’ll not stop soaking you up, even if I may be extra tired soon and a little preoccupied with your infant brother.

You’re mine, and I’m yours, always.

Mama A







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