A Letter to My One-Year-Old
Note: His 2nd birthday has passed, but to keep the Rosey James tradition, I decided to still post the letter, even if it's a little late. Enjoy!
It’s hard to believe that soon you’ll be two years old. It seems like only yesterday, I was pacing around the Costco aisles with you in my belly, looking at toddler pajamas in between contractions.
And now, here you are. A little person who, each day, reveals a little more of your personality. From your love of Spiderman and Buzz Lightyear, to your ability to eat as much (if not more!) than your sister, you are certainly transforming into a hilarious, sweet, strong-willed human being.
You’ve had a big year! You traveled out of the country for the first time, got your first haircut, perfected your somersault, and met a real-life Elsa. You’ve listened to “You're Welcome” from Moana approximately one million times, and maintained your commitment to your bedtime pacifier (better known as your “wa-wee”.
And while it’s clear that you love your mom and dad, nothing compares to your complete adulation of your big sister Avery. I hope that in the years to come, the two of you maintain your healthy obsession with each other, that fights are short-lived, and forgiveness is swift.
Recently, I was having an altogether horrible day. I was holding you in my arms while walking though the living room, when out of nowhere you put your hands on either side of my face, pushed my cheeks together and said, “love you mommy.” And it was just the reminder I needed.
Life is hard. Work is grueling. Parenting can seem impossible. But having you as my kid is the perfect perspective check. All I need is a little slobber on my face, spaghetti sauce on my slacks, or a smushed face to remember not to take all of this too seriously.
Love you, Bubba.
Also read: A Letter to My Infant Son