Dear Boy Wonder….I love you. I love you. I love you.
But, you are seriously testing my decision of choosing motherhood over the sweet life of a gypsy. I prayed to Jesus for you. I prayed to Jesus while I was carrying you. I prayed to Jesus on your BIRTHday and I have prayed to Jesus on your behalf every day since. Lately, I’ve decided to pray to Jesus that I will not harm you when you look at me head slightly cocked with those beautiful blue eyes in a narrow squint and those precious lips tightly pursed. Lucky for you, I was born with the “DoNotEverHarmYourChildrenChip” in my brain. For real, you are quite lucky.
Sometimes I think you are really a twin and I am on the receiving end of a terrible prank. There must be two of you. How else can it be explained? One
day minute second you are my sweet angel, happy to be alive, singing with the birds, grinning in delight, clearing your dishes, saying ‘thank you’, emitting rays of sunshine from your butt. In a blink of an eye you become possessed by the Puberty Demon and all hell breaks loose. The rays of sunshine have turned to lighting bolts, your experiencing the ‘worst day of your life’ (over and over again!), your smile has turned up-side-down, chairs are being broken, insults are being thrown. It’s exhausting. One day I will find the hidden cameras in our home as I am positive that I am being Punk’d! Perhaps meeting Ashton Kutcher would make it all worth it. Maybe. Probably not.
I will push through. I will carry on. I will not lose the fight. I will pray. Just as my mama prayed for me and her mama prayed for her. Because you are worth it. And, I will need you to take care of me some day 😉
I see you. I see you looking in the mirror obsessing about your hair. I see you agonizing over the little pimple on your chin. I see you checking your phone to see if “she” likes you. I see the sadness in your eyes when you’ve been left out. I see you repeatedly fall on the slopes. And… I see you snuggle your dog. I see you hug your sister. I see you mouth “I love you” to me when I see you at school. I see you hit a home run. I see you sing a solo. I see you all the time.
I hear you. I hear you sigh. I hear your anger. I hear your frustration over homework. I hear you cry. I hear your ugly words to your sister. I hear you slam your door. I hear you mumble under your breath. And… I hear you ask to have dinner altogether. I hear you laugh with your friends. I hear your sing in the shower. I hear your talk about your day. I hear you cheer on your teammates. I hear you pray to Jesus. I hear you stick up for your peers. I hear you say “I love you, Mama”. I hear you all the time.
I smell you. I smell your Dorito breath. I smell your BO. I smell your sweaty head. I smell your rancid shoe drawer. I smell your poisonous toots. And… I smell your Axe body spray. I smell your lavender shampoo. I smell the brownies you baked on your own. I smell your pillow. I smell you all the time.
I feel you. I feel you tense up. I feel your struggles as if they are mine. I feel you ball your fists. I feel you smack your sister. I feel you stomp in your room. I feel your heartbreak. I feel the daggers you shoot into my back. And… I feel your soft cheek while you’re sleeping. I feel your mop of unruly hair. I feel your tight hugs. I feel the muscles forming under your skin. I feel your determination on the mound. I feel the love you have for life. I feel you all the time.
I will not fail you. I will frustrate you and hold you accountable. I will love you unconditionally. I will let some things slide. I will lose sleep over you and remind you to be kind. I will pray for you always. I will not give up on you. I will not fail you. You are my son and I will never take that for granted.
Now, please put your dirty boxers in the hamper, get your big-ass binder off the kitchen counter, stop depleting our cellular data, wear deodorant every day, hang up your wet towel, stop wearing your $15 socks without shoes and give me a hug; a real hug.