a letter for oliver:
this monday, you will be two my sweet little gingersnap. over and over i’ve typed and erased this message because there just aren’t words to explain the way youve changed us – the ways you’ve changed me. i remember so vividly my time in the hospital. the long hours of contractions from induction, how exhausted i was with two day of no sleep and only sustenance being water and graham crackers. oliver, it was all worth it and i would go through a week of contractions if i had to do it over again. you are the smartest, funniest, most full of personality little dude i’ve ever known. daily i’m proud of the way you listen, and proud of the hilarious way you occasionally don’t. daily, i admire the way your eyelashes curl and shimmer with your equally red locks.
this year, you’ve begun talking – slowly but surely. theres so much you understand and so little you wish to say, just like your daddy. yesterday, on the day before your birthday party, you said “two” for the first time while holding up both of your pointer fingers. it was actually more of an “L” shape with your pointer and thumb out, but it was perfect, oliver. absolutely positively perfect. i think everything you do is perfect, and i’m so blessed and honored to be your mama. life before you just didn’t exist, sweet oliver. to quote the song i’ve sung to you since birth – the song i would whisper in your ear as i rocked you to sleep milkdrunk almost two years ago –
“your baby blues so full of wonder. your curly cues, your contagious smile. and as i watch you start to grow up, all I can do is hold you tight.
knowing clouds will rage in, storms will race in, but you will be safe in my arms. rains will pour down – waves will crash around, but you will be safe in my arms.”
hoping for you to have the most wonderful birthday, full of chicken nuggets, banana bread, and all the ugga muggas.