A letter to my son on Mother’s Day
Today is Mother’s Day, our third one spent together (fourth if you include when Dad brought me a present when you were still in my tummy).
The NICU days seem more distant now, and we seem to be on more of an even keel.
This one is also extra special because this is our last just me and you.
This time next year we will be celebrating Mother’s Day with your future brother or sister, as a family of four.
I have been thinking a lot recently about the last 2 and a half years. So much has changed.
You have come so far, and you are frankly amazing. Bloody annoying but amazing all the same.
We have spent this week on your first ever holiday and you were the happiest I have ever seen you.
We are on the brink of so much change, and I hope you will embrace it.
I want you to know it wasn’t because you were not enough, or not good enough because boy are you, and then some.
I hope you will know that I will love you just the same when your new sibling gets here, I could never love you any less.
I will love you, always. (Points if you get the Harry Potter reference.)
Being your mother made me, and that’s why I am so embarrassingly mushy about days like this.
The ups, the downs (there have been a lot) made me the mother I am today.
I didn’t think I could hack it as a heart/ NICU Mum, but you guided me.
I didn’t think I was a good mum, at times I didn’t know if I could even see it all through.
The lack of sleep, the reflux days, and all the times where you drove me up the wall and I counted the hours until your Dad was home.
Then there are all the firsts, watching you become the funniest little boy and seeing you with your friends. It makes it all worth it.
I never knew how much being your mother could mean to me, I wouldn’t change a single thing about you. (Well maybe you could be less stroppy but you are my son after all).
You make me laugh so much, even when you are repeating things you shouldn’t be.
You make my heart explode when you tell me I am your best friend.
We can fall out, like when you get angry that your trousers do not meet your socks and you refuse to leave the house until I have tucked them in.
Or when you demand you have not done a poo, when you smell worse than your Dad after too much cheese.
You surprise me on a daily basis, you are sweet, temperamental, sensitive, loving and frankly hilarious especially when you do your Mr Tumble impression or fart and blame your Dad.
You are a smart arse and I love it, you tell me milk comes from the fridge and that a pig makes the sound “PORK”.
I have never known such an honest kid, you even dob yourself in which makes me laugh no end.
I have my faults, as do you, I can shout too much, I don’t play enough and I really need to make you eat more veg.
You can be a bit of arse at times, and so irrational but I can see a mirror image of myself in you.
I wish I could protect you against the ugliness in this world, the hatred, the pointlessness but I will teach you love, I will teach you to be kind and to always have hope.
Forever I want to keep you close, but I will teach you strength.
But, today it is all about me and you and one I always want to remember.
Because, frankly kiddo me and you one of a kind, secret handshake and all.
I love you kiddo, but if you could sleep in a tad later I would appreciate it.
Love Mum x
|Me and The Boy. Always.|