I’ve been staring at this page for what feels like days, but actually it’s much longer. It’s been weeks. Your birthday was almost a month ago. I hope you don’t get my sense of procrastination. It rivals a musical toy for most irritating. I’ve been struggling with how to start this letter – my mama bear love letter to you. I’m quite certain better writers (actually any other writer) could have published a novel by now. But this is no ordinary letter. This is your first birthday letter. And now it’s a couple weeks past your first birthday, I can no longer delay.
You’ve missed some milestones and you have an evaluation next week to make sure you are okay. And I’m not okay with that. I worry. I worry somehow you were affected by my depression when I was pregnant. Maybe you had too much responsibility in the womb to make sure your mama made it through each day.
Truth be told I let your dad take you to your 12-month well-visit at the pediatrician office. I don’t like to see you get your shots. It doesn’t bother me with your sister. But my sweet boy, it hurts my heart with you. Your father filled out a questionnaire and answered “no” on the questions in the communication section. I don’t know whether he answered them right or not. I thinking, um, no, but we will give him the benefit of the doubt. When they offered an evaluation, I said yes.
You aren’t doing things as fast as your sister. Physically you are a little rock star. But things like knowing where your nose is, smiling back, puckering up or even responding to your name – you don’t do it yet. Maybe you can start this week and I can just cancel the appointment. Kay?
Funny thing is, I think you have a different learning style. You soak everything up and learn internally. Then pow! My son, your true power will rest in the ability to fly under the radar, to be underestimated. I have no doubt you will take the world by storm. In the most unexpected, pull-the-wool-out-from-under-the-rug, come out of no where kind of way. You will be the quiet one, the one who patiently waits, the one who soaks up information like a sponge. And then suddenly you will whisper words of genius. No one will no where you came from. This is your future.
You love to be somewhere new. I never have to worry about your behavior when we are out in public. You love to watch people. You stare at everything. Your Dad and Tatum – they are adventurers. Me and you – we are observers. Thank you for that
What a blessed and happy year this has been. You’ve had both parents home for your entire life minus two months. Not many babies are so lucky. I’ll be returning to the corporate workforce soon. I will miss you tremendously. But I know on the other side of 5 years I will be home with you again. At least that’s the plan today. You’ll understand how indecisive your mother is as you get older. I apologize in advance.
To your health and happiness in year two and beyond. Please eat your veggies son.