For the first time since starting these letters I feel like I could read you this one, and you'd understand. You understand so much. You understand love and pain and hurt and happiness. When you feel sad or scared you always, always ask for one of two things. One, you ask for your crib. Your crib is your safe zone. Where you retreat and regroup and relax. You feel so safe there, and that makes me happy. I always want you to find comfort in your bed. And two, you ask for me. If you fall and hurt yourself you always try to find me quickly with your eyes. If you get worried or scared you always reach for me. That, my sweet boy, makes me very happy. I love that you find comfort in my arms.
That said, you are a Daddy's boy through and through. You are his "mini-me". You both love the same things (flashlights, cars, music, the outdoors) and you both get excited about the same things (oh my gosh! A plane flying overhead!). You and your Daddy adore each other. Daddy never ever thought he could love you as much as he does. I know this because late at night, after you've been in bed for hours, he'll tell me. I agree, of course. Never did we think we could love somebody as much.
We always comment on how big you're getting, how smart you are, how much you are talking. But, as big and smart and talkative as you are, I want to remember these last fleeting moments of your babyhood. You want to be carried when your tired. You want to snuggle with your binky and your lovey in your crib. You want to be hugged and tickled (something you won't want all too soon). I look at you, and although your hands and feet and face are much bigger than the day you were born, I want to remember you're still small. You're still a little boy looking for guidance, reassurance and love in this big big world.
And those things, my dear, are what a Mama's for.
I love you. More than you will ever know.
Happy half birthday.
Photos are from our ice cream date the other night.