Thanksgiving… Christmas… New Years…. today. He’s bigger, bolder and brighter than ever and I relish every moment spent with him. His face lights up a room, his smile reaches all corners of the space and he smells like cake batter. His big sister loves him. He eats, he sleeps, he’s a really good baby. It hurts to love him and it hurts to leave him. It’s literally hard to breathe. Charlie makes an excellent companion and friend. She treats him softly and sweetly and makes my every prayer filled with the hope that they will always be best friends.It’s nice having two. It’s nice having a baby. It’s easy to get caught in the hustle and bustle and the hurrying and the needing and wanting. Although it pays off to slow down, it’s hard to. The house is a mess, the dogs need taken outside and although I’m sure it’s not nearly as bad as others, it feels like the papers and the toys are having a clutter contest. A stink bug just whizzed past my head. How fast this time will fly as well. Silence. Solitude. I probably get more of it than the average bear. I make a point to create it, though. I know it’s important. Enough about me.
Charlie is potty trained. Enter big light, high heavens and angelic music. She can now take ballet lessons. I’m looking for a studio to send her. She’s articulate and inquisitive. She makes me laugh, and she’s not afraid to be silly. She’s afraid not to be silly. Most likely early signs of a defense mechanism, but sweet and endearing nonetheless. Her teachers say wonderful things about her. She’s helpful and eager to please. Except when she’s not. She’s going to like science, thanks to ‘Sid the Science Kid’ and she’s going to like art. She can draw people and I’ve never showed her how. She’s going to have a lot of fun in life… life loves her, and vice versa. Charlie, I want you to know how much I love you. I pray to God every day that he will guide me and help me raise you and teach you so that you will be safe and smart when I’m not around. You are precious and memorable. Just remember: it’s easy to get anger, it takes courage to control our aggression. This is a delicate operation Daddy and I are running, taking you and Theo under our wings. There is no room for traumatic error and all the room for intelligent guidance. We fall victim to what all the parents of the world will say, at some point in their responsibility: “We did the best we could.” We love you and will be eternally grateful to God for giving us the opportunity to be your parents. You are a blessing and everyday I get to wake up with you and every day I get to put you to bed is a miracle. Please don’t ever let me forget it.