dear seven

Hello my sweet baby boy. I’m going to continue these little love letters so you can read them someday.

I love being your mom. I am 24 years old, Dad just tuned 26, and you are 21 months on Tuesday. I tell you that because someday, you won’t believe that we were ever so young. But also because you are such a big, if not the biggest part of my 24th year. So it feels important to tell you how life as your 24 year old mom is.

Life right now, is really exciting. I’m starting to look forward to things again. For the entire summer, you were the only thing I would ever look forward to. Somedays, you were the only thing that got me out of bed. I know, it’s sad, but I promise I’m better because of it.

Because you were also the only thing that really motivated me to get better.

You seemingly grew up overnight.

Every few months, I’ll wake up and randomly notice that you are significantly bigger, older, smarter, and curlier.

I examine you each day and see no changes and then BAM! Out of the blue your curls are an inch longer.

This cycle has been repeated countless times over the course of your life and yet every time, it blows my mind.

You recently hit another cuteness milestone when you started reciting all of the words to “Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?”

That book, and Chicka Chicka Boom Boom, have taken over our lives. Because when you love something, you love it hard.

You’ve only been here for 21 months yet there has already been so many phases.

The Celine Dion phase.

The iconic Dumb Ways to Die era.

The Katy Perry winter you put us through.

But nothing will ever compare to the SQUEAL you make when you hear the intro to Chicka Chicka Boom Boom.

One thing I’ll say about you though…you’re pretty smart. Smarter than dad and I ever gave you credit for, to be honest. I don’t know! You’re 2! You’re not even 2. I still think of you as a baby. And maybe it’s because you were born so early, but we’ve never had too many expectations for you. No pressure. No stress. Dad is good at reminding me you always figure things out on your own time.

So imagine how surprised we were to see you saying and pointing out different colors after 7 months of not uttering one single “mama.”

You’ve been keeping your brilliance to yourself! Legend.

I remember spending hours with you at the beginning of the year, trying to get you to learn baby sign language. I really zoned in on the word “more” but despite my dramatic efforts, you gave me nothing but blank stares.

A few weeks ago, I was giving you a bite of my food and you sweetly tapped your hands together in a clear sign for “more.”

“WHAT?!” I almost yelled. “YOU KNEW THE WHOLE TIME???”

You did. You ask for “more” daily now, even though we haven’t revisited those lessons since February.

I felt played. But also proud. You really just operate on your own schedule, and I respect it.

(Except for the time when you put me into labor 2 months before your due date — wtf was that???)

Last week, right before bed, you threw up all over your blankie, which you call “geegee.”

Top 5 worst moments of my life.

We put geegee in the wash, and you in your crib, hoping you were tired enough not to notice.

I hid on the other side of the apartment like I always do for the 5 minutes it takes you to fall asleep. I’m still too sensitive. (But trust me, I’d get you out if it were up to me! Dad is the bedtime boss!)

15 minutes go by, and Dad walks in with the baby monitor in his hand, on the verge of tears.

“Ind…” he says, showing me the screen.

Oh, it was HORRIBLE.

You were standing up in your crib, crying the saddest little cry I’ve ever heard. It wasn’t a scream. It was a heartbroken little baby cry.

“GeeeeeeGeeeee” you cried and cried. I couldn’t watch.

We ran in and picked you up and cuddled in our bed until geegee was done being washed.

Then I went online and bought 3 backups.

Sheesh.

You are Dad’s twin right now. But showing signs of being like me every single day…you’re sensitive, sweet, silly, a little over the top, and you love attention. My soulmate.

One of my favorite parts of motherhood, is just getting to do it with Dad. Parenting together is really the joy of our lives. It sounds cheesy but it’s true. We absolutely adore you. We laugh at you behind your back 20 times a day. (Sorry.)

It just means everything to have someone else who loves you as much as I do.

You need to understand, that at this point in time, you and Dad are joined at the hip. The best of friends. I’m working and writing more than ever, and we just entered the busiest, most chaotic quarter of the year for Lonely Ghost. But Dad holds it down at home and reads you Chicka Chicka Boom Boom as many times as you want. (I mean actually, I think he hides it after the third round, but the guy would do anything for you.)

It’s the biggest blessing. To not only have someone that loves you as much as I do, but to have someone who loves me enough to be there for you in a way I can’t be right now. So I can create this beautiful life for us.

We’re so lucky to have him.

And what’s really beautiful is that every single day, Dad tells me that he is so lucky to have us.

What a special thing to have parents who both feel like they won the lottery with one another.

It’s all because of you, baby.

In your short life, you’ve already proven that one of your gifts is bringing out the best in others.

You’ve done that with Dad & I, and you continue to push us and show us new parts of ourselves every day.

Our best little teacher yet.

Another motherhood highlight - My life used to be all about the big moments. Now, with you, they’re all about the small ones.

I showed you The Nightmare Before Christmas this week. That was a huge mom moment for me. Dad was laughing at me for knowing all of the words. But I’ve waited years for this!

I’ve been trying to push this on you for awhile. Kate and I took you to build-a-bear last month (another moment I’ve dreamed of since I was 10 years old) and we got a Jack Skellington bear for you. But so far, you really do like it. It’s the songs. I knew they’d get you.

They got me too!

Okay, this actually reminds me of another motherhood highlight. Getting to really appreciate the things I loved as a kid, with a better perspective. This movie is a classic! Of course. But it hits harder when you’re 24...you’ll just have to trust me. You sat on my lap so patiently for probably 40 minutes until you started chanting “BOOM BOOM” but for those 40 peaceful minutes, we were both mesmerized. I noticed every detail in a new, wildly impressive light. I teared up during Jack’s Lament. I momentarily spaced out to plan next years family halloween costume. I even watched a documentary on the making of the movie this morning before you woke up.

Yeah. You know how when you love something you love it hard? Where do you think you got that from?

Every time I write these letters, I’m reminded that none of this will mean anything to you by the time you read them. Your first words. How much you weighed. Detailed retellings of the first time you watched (insert cult classic here.) We’ll probably never be able to accurately express how Bill Martin Jr. was the foundation of our family for those first two years. Or just how important “geegee” is to the overall peace in our home.

But, as your 24 year old mom speaking…it’s all so exciting for us. All of it.

We get to watch from the front row as you become your own little person.

I’ve talked about some motherhood highlights, but can I just add in one thing that absolutely sucks about motherhood?

The phases are too short.

I already miss the Celine days.

I have moments where I catch myself right in the middle of one of your phases. Painfully aware of the inevitable change to come.

The other night when we were watching The Nightmare Before Christmas, I had one of those moments.

You had your tiny little hand laying on top of mine, and I had my nose buried in your hair, trying to take in the smell.

Terrified I won’t remember it someday.

I went there. I went to the “In 20 years I’ll wish things were as simple as showing him The Nightmare Before Christmas for the first time.”

I sat with that thought for a second. I’m trying to do better at facing them instead of putting them off til later.

I thought about all the phases to come, and how I get to be there for only so many.

Oh yeah. I reaaaalllly went there. I started thinking of all the phases you’ll have that I won’t get to be apart of.

I remind myself that you are your own person, with your own seasons. It simultaneously warms and breaks my heart.

Just then, I looked down at our hands on top of each other.

I saw something amazing.

Two matching birthmarks.

Little dots in the middle of our left wrists, almost in the exact same spot. It looks like they could be matching tattoos.

I got a lump in my throat. I had noticed yours before. It was always one of my favorite parts about your tiny chubby hands.

But I never realized that I had an identical marker of my own.

I know we chose each other, Sev.

Thanks for reminding me.

Call me when you read this

Mom