Today, you are three-years-old.
In many ways, this has been the longest three years of my entire life. In more ways, this time has spun by so quickly that I’m not even sure I’ve finished the initial exhale of finding out I was pregnant with you. In truth, I don’t even remember who I was before you. I cannot be defined by you, my child, but I can honestly say that the boundaries of my being expanded so far beyond anything I could have thought with thoughts that by simply adding “Abe’s mom” to my definition doesn’t really do anything justice. I continue to feel honored you chose me.
I heard someone say today, “Choose love in every moment with every person.” While adults wander around trying to do just that (or maybe, more accurately for some, trying not to) you, my darling, don’t even notice your own ego. You just choose love all the time and with all people. No one has ever “rubbed you the wrong way” and you’ve never questioned anyone’s kindness towards you. For me, you are a constant reminder that the universe does want us to feel love all the time, both giving and receiving with a big, huge open heart. You’re a complete inspiration in that way.
You’ve taught me in three years that all messes can be cleaned up (and done so with laughter), crying is an essential part of human nature we should all try once in a while, and to relax because no one cares what I look like when I’m in the picture with you anyways. You’ve taught me bright, shining eyes are the fastest way to show someone you’re listening. And, most ultimately, you’ve taught me none of us is meant to do this life alone.
You, my little one, are a ham. Your little ideas are just starting to spring forth from your words, new ones everyday. You are empathic and you are playful with everyone. You say what you need, and you say please and thank you. You check on me everyday to make sure I’m doing ok. You still love cars and trucks and trains. You also love building towers and castles with blocks, giving the dogs treats, and flipping through the pages of books we’ve read a hundred times, only now you “read” them to yourself. You tell me when you need to “take a break”, which is more than most grown-ups do. And lord if you aren’t better on an iPad than I am.
There are few things in the world you won’t eat. Please never stop eating that way.
You love animals. Whether it’s our big dogs or a trip to the zoo, you could watch and play with animals for hours. And you’re gentle with animals! Loving, as if you know that they need you to be careful with them and safe. I just love that about you.
And of course, Abe, you are 3, so you shout and yell and sometimes hit when you’re tired. You tug on my clothes and cry to the heavens when it’s time to go to bed. You say things like, “Mommy, I need my privacies,” and you get quiet and whisper, “Do you hear a dump trunk?” everytime any truck drives by the house. Everyday you ask me, “What are-doin’, Mom?” and, “Can we go to the park?”
In three more years you will be six. If those years pass as quickly as these three have, I won’t know what to do with myself. I told everyone you would never be old enough to sleep through the night, to smile, to walk, to talk, to answer questions…It felt like you would be dependent on me for everything forever. And here you are, barely asking me for anything anymore.
I love you forever more than the moon and the sky. You are my light.