I remember the day you were ready to meet me. I remember the joy I felt knowing I would soon hold you in my arms. At 4:30 pm you were placed on my chest for the first time. You moved towards my breast and suckled on the colostrum my body had so diligently prepared for you. My body nourished you for 45 minutes and here I was, head over heels about you, with no clue on how to care for you. Sure, I had attended every baby prep class there was: how to care for your newborn, breastfeeding for the first time mother, bathing your baby…you name it, I took it or read all about it because that is what I do. I read way too much, sometimes to my detriment.

We experienced all our firsts together. We rolled for the first time, crawled, walked, broke our first tooth, took our first flight as mommy and baby. We have done everything together for the past 47 months. We have cried ourselves to sleep and been each other’s everything. But as you near your fourth birthday, things are beginning to change, and my mama bear heart is hurting just a little bit, and unfortunately, papa is paying for it.

You see, you are becoming a little boy and as happy as that makes me, I am saddened (and very proud!) when you say, “mama, I want to do it”, “I can do it!”,  “don’t help me!”… followed by 15 minutes of non-stop crying as you struggle ( but are so determined) to take your own shirt off, get the one piece of noodle left with a fork or buckle yourself in your new big boy car seat.

You are doing everything right. The countless mornings and afternoons we have spent learning about being kind, loving, independent, a God-fearing little boy have paid off. You are becoming just that, but I long for the little Nene that was barely able to say much more than mama and shark.

 

I remember when you walked for the first time. You giggled the entire time you walked towards me. I can look through every single picture of you and tell you what we did that day and whether or not you were recovering from a cold, didn’t feel like yourself or needed a couple extra cuddles before nap.

I can recall the naps we took together every day, sometimes waking up right before papa got home from work and we would pretend we had been awake longer just so papa wouldn’t feel left out. We spent the first two years of your life playing at the beach, walking up and down the strand. You learned to ride your bike and scooter there.

There is no memory too small of you that my brain hasn’t managed to file in your life binder, even though I can’t even manage to remember if I had breakfast this morning.

Lately I have been a little harder on you than usual, I have let you try to figure things out on your own where as before, I would have skipped and jumped to be at your side. I have taken things away from you to give to others and watch you cry in disappointment. But I can assure you, I don’t love you any less. If anything, I love you more. I am simply working really hard at ensuring that I am building a strong foundation for you.

 

I am trying to raise a loving boy who understands compassion, grace, patience, unconditional love, is respectful of others and feels remorse when making bad decisions. Everything we worked so hard for is coming to fruition and as happy as it makes me, the past 47 months have gone by a little too quickly.

I can’t promise we won’t shed any more tears, or have meltdowns because I don’t understand, but I can promise you I will always be by your side, rooting you on, because I will always be your number one fan.

Love,

Mama Bear