Two

My baby Chase,

It’s late…way late. I have been running around like a crazy person for the past couple days trying to get everything together for this party, and, of course, it’s still coming down to the last minute. That’s how we roll, I guess. Anyway, like I said, it’s late. And the early morning is going to come so soon, but I can’t settle down. My mind is somewhere else…somewhere wrapped in the blessing of your existence.

Two years ago tonight, your daddy and I did something we do all the time when I need calming down. We were thumbing through books at the bookstore, losing ourselves in the possibilities of words, forgetting the craziness of right here right now for just a minute (well…I was doing those things. Your daddy was sitting in a chair playing on his phone, his favorite calming bookstore activity. But that’s neither here nor there… ). We were on our way to you.

In the last moments before we headed to the hospital to begin my induction, I noticed a book called, “Taming the Spirited Child.” That title just breaks my heart. It still breaks me the way it did that day, when you were all possibilities. I closed my eyes and I begged the universe for a spirited child. And I swore if you were, I would NEVER try to tame you.

I have a hard time remembering who I was on that night. I was a girl. A girl with big ideas about parenthood, a lot of confidence in my ability to be a good mama, and not a damn clue about the reality of raising a child.

Who I am today is a hundred miles from that girl. And that’s because of you.
Even so, I stand by what I begged for. I got it. You ARE spirit, my child. You are independent and strong-willed and such a little self. A BIG self. You have so much muchness. You are magic trapped in a body.

Some days, I wonder how it was that there was ever a day that I didn’t know you. How could there have ever been a day that you didn’t exist in my reality? Other days, I realize that I still don’t know you…I haven’t scratched the surface of you. You are an ocean and I’ve only just waded into the lapping waves. You are an eternity that I’ve lived in for just a minute.

What a juxtaposition. You are my always were. And you are also my never will fully be. You are a growing. You are a forever, little magician.

Thank you for being mine…for becoming a part of what is me. You teach me every single minute of every single day how to know myself better. You amaze me. You humble me. You exhaust me to my very bones. You ignite my soul to be bigger and better and worthy to be someone to you. Thank you for that. Thank you for being the part of me that I could never be for myself. I will spend forever and ever trying to do the same for you.

You can be my brave, and I will be your safety net. You can be my fun, and I will be your serious. You can be my freedom, and I will be your structure. You can be my open field, and I will be your home. We can spend a lifetime this way…teaching one another how to be. What a gift. I love you unbelievably.
-Mama