7 Things I Wish My Son Could Know

Three years ago when my husband and I traded in our quiet little lives to welcome a red faced, hiccupping baby boy-in-an-old-man-suit, I made a promise. A commitment that I would be honest with my son in every way (except Santa because, well, Santa) and tell him with every word and action how dearly he was loved.

And then I met reality.

After the third up-the-back blow-out in as many hours or while dragging a boneless 2-year old body through the aisles of Target, it’s hard to communicate love. When changing my own pants for the third time that day because my 3-year old can’t be bothered to use a tissue on his runny nose, my waves of affection just don’t seem to radiate as brightly. Thankfully there’s so much time for “I love you” in between those admittedly small moments of frustration and irritation that I have no doubt my son feels loved. But it has made me think about all the other things I wish he could know. And maybe, just maybe, someday he will.

1. Being your mommy is scary sometimes.

Not Freddy Krueger scary, or even roller coaster scary. It’s more “I want to do the right thing for you so that you turn out to be a better than okay human” scary. Parenthood is riddled with decisions that all seem – emphasis on seem – to have monumental and irreversible consequences. Pick the right preschool or you’ll never go to college. Used disposable diapers? Kiss that Calvin Klein modeling contract goodbye. Make you apologize to a friend you pushed and you’ll never learn empathy. Don’t make you apologize and you’ll be a ruthless jerk. So much could go wrong. You could get sick. You could get hurt. It’s a wonder you’ve made it this far.

2. I want to be a good mom.

And I fail at this daily…sometimes hourly…fine, sometimes even by the minute. But thankfully you keep giving me second and third (and fourth) chances and still seem to love me even when I need a fifth (or sixth).

3. I want you to be little and big at the same time.

How about you start getting yourself dressed in the morning but still give me sloppy on-the-lips kisses every time you see me? And go potty all by yourself but still want to hold my hand? And sit at the dinner table for 5 minutes straight (fine, I’ll take 3) but still play with my hair as you fall asleep?

4. I don’t want to be in a rush.

There’s nothing I would love more than for you to see whether Dora makes it through the musical forest, over the big mountain and to her cousin’s quinceanera but I have a client conference call to be on and you have to get to daycare. And I get that snuggling and staying in your pajamas is awesome – heck, I’d do it every day if I could! – but I really don’t want to explain to your soccer coach that “It’s jammy day!”…again.

5. I want to play with you.

But sometimes I’m tired. And just because I need to sit on the couch instead of racing an imaginary flying pencil (yes, that happened) through the living room doesn’t mean I’m any less present for you or in love with watching your creative little mind and body work.

 6. You are the easiest and the hardest person to love.

When I was pregnant with you I had no idea how desperately and naturally I would fall in love with you. It doesn’t take thought or effort. It just is. But when you appear at my bedside at 3am demanding to sleep on my head or spit your chewed up carrots in the dog’s water bowl or – yes, again – use my yoga pants as a tissue, it’s hard work.

 7. I would do anything for you.

Including changing my pants three (or more) times a day.

Photo credit: Gina Zeidler