Dear Son, I love you now put on the damn hoodie

When you were a baby, I was in charge of keeping you alive. It was scary because you couldn’t talk, so I had to guess. 
Were you hungry? 
Did you need to burp? 
Were your teeth coming in? 
Did you need a diaper change? 
Did your belly hurt? 
Did you get enough sleep?
Were you warm enough?

So, as mothers do, I became in tune with you. 
I started to learn the difference in your tired cry and your hungry cry. 
I started to watch what made your eyes light up and what you ignored. 
I started to note all the your gestures and facial expressions to try to help me recognize that you were okay and I did it!
I learned all the ways to make sure you were okay,
my baby was okay

And then you grew up a little bit and I taught you how to talk
Making sure you were okay was easier but I still needed to be in tune with you
because now you have a favorite cup and favorite jammies
you would eat some food joyfully and others you disliked
you preferred certain activities and other games felt like chores
you liked attention in certain ways better than others; praise, or hugs, or gifts.
you learned to walk, run, and jump
you learned to read and write and draw
you wanted your booboos kissed and your hand held
you wanted books read to you and tucked in at night
and I still worried if you were eating enough
or rested enough or warm enough
And you still needed me enough
so I could make sure all those things were okay
that you were okay,
my baby was okay

And now you’re even bigger. 
you definitely know how to talk
you learned how to talk back,
sideways,
up,
down,
under your breath,
and all around my questions dodging the real answer like some kind of acrobat

you have favorite meals (I know them)
favorite brand of clothes (I buy them)
favorite friends (I ask about them and get to know them)
but
I am losing my sync with you I know you can sense this too
but when it feels like frustration and bittersweet for me, I know it feels more like frustration and freedom for you. 
this is just the way it goes, darling, growing up
and we’ll get through this too
but as you grow up and become more focused on freedom
and more frustrated with me
know that my promise to your newborn eyes is still on
I’m still worrying about you
Are you eating enough
or rested enough or warm enough
So what feels like unreasonable demands to you:   
– Please take a breakfast bar to eat on the way to practice!   
– Turn off the tv, it’s time for bed.    
– Wear a hoodie, it’s 49 degrees outside this morning. 
That’s just the voice of your momma that promised a long time ago
that she would make sure you were okay
and maybe I didn’t even realize it back then
but that was a promise that would encompass
when I could fit your whole body in my arms when I wiped your sticky, squishy toddler hands
when I taught you to tie your shoes
when I cheered for you from the bleachers
when I slipped on your sneakers and they were big enough to fit me
when I’ll have to look up to speak to you
when I’ll watch you fall in love when I’ll pack you up and you don’t live in our house anymore
when you are completely grown person with their own life and house and family.
even then, my darling.
forever and ever.
the only thing I need in life is for you to be okay.
for my baby to be okay.
and I know you don’t look like a baby
or act like a baby
or need me like a baby
but you are still MY baby.

I love you.
now please put on the damn hoodie

Related posts:

The random perks of being a mom to littles An open letter to my first born child Intentional Parenting: Personal Email for your tween An open letter to my daughter about her body