Monday, March 11, 2013

Dear Nash

I love you, my sweet boy. I hope you never doubt that. Even when things get hard to understand. You're one year old now. Such a big boy. I have always felt, though, that you have an old soul. Like you are just waiting for your body to catch up so you can show me (and the rest of the world) all of your big ideas.

You are so beautiful. Everyone comments on your big blue eyes. I have loved your little chin since the moment we met. And your soft, pudgy hands with such capable long piano player fingers make me so happy when I feel them on mine.

Your daddy thinks you look like me. I think so too. I love seeing the shape of my eyes staring back at me. I love that you got your Grandpa McGuire's hair. I love your long legs and cute little beany bum. You got your daddy's skin though. It is the softest skin I have ever felt. I love the spot at the very bottom of your cheeks. Almost where it meets your neck. That's where I kiss you when I come to say goodnight to you before I go to sleep.

You are such a fast crawler. You can be halfway up the stairs before I find you. You know how to open doors unless they are shut all the way. You love things with buttons. You love glasses and anything shiny. And you know what you like and how to get it. I love watching you learn about a new object. You turn it over and over in your hands until you have felt every surface.

I love watching you find delight in something. The wind, sunshine, a toy you've never played with before. You throw your head back and grin, soaking it all in. You can't teach passion like that.

You are so curious. You get into drawers and cupboards. You climb the playground jungle gyms and explore the slides fearlessly. You tell me about every single one of your adventures in the car on the way home. Until you drift off to sleep.

Someday, we'll talk about your dreams. I know they're larger than life. I hope they stay that way.

For now, I love that you are my little boy. That I get to carry you up to bed and feel your warm breath on my neck. and smell your soft hair. My baby. You always will be.

I love you.
Mom



1 comment:

  1. Ah, man. I love these so much. How can I love these boys so much when I've never even met them?!

    ReplyDelete

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