to my firstborn...

It is likely you will not remember what our summers looked like before your baby brother or sister arrived.  You are my firstborn, Cruz, my baby, and I've been blessed with three years with just you, first as a new mom, nervous and anxious and overwhelmed with bringing this little baby home, this new person that called me to step out of my old life and into this new world of love, selflessness, and nursing bras.  Before you, I was like a comet in the sky, chasing after big dreams and seeking to take hold of my life, align plans for personal success and stability, and fill empty holes with material desires and busy schedules.  And then you arrived into my world, my little piece of God's grace, and quickly showed me another way to live out this one life.  You showed me that life isn't necessarily found in fancy dates and big adventures with your dad, but working together in our house, grabbing glasses of water or burp cloths for each other, trying to figure out how to work a breast pump, or standing together by the kitchen sink at bath time, laughing at the way you concentrate as you figure out how to splash.  Those first few days at home with you were a true picture of our new world --- everything we once knew, late nights with friends, work deadlines, curling irons, and a full night's sleep, were all stripped away and left us with what was most important...each other.  You taught us to give thanks for the present and to live deeply in it instead of setting our sights on the future.  Suddenly, little details --- the wrinkles on your forehead, the way your head feels on my shoulder when we read before bed, and the way my heart seems to smile when you are happy all outweigh what I used to consider the big things.  Although the years seem to move faster now that I have you in it, the slower pace of the days have called me to pay attention, to soak up these seasons while I have them, and to seek God's help in living it all well. 

I want you to know how much I cherish my slow summers at home with you.  We've had three of them now, exploring the world together, learning and growing and laughing our way through picnics, stories, and bug hunts.  I love our adventures --- a morning date to the movies, muffins and race cars by the river, and pirate treasure hunts at Prairie Lakes Park are some of my favorites.  I pray I will always find ways to create special moments with just you and that our bond continues to deepen and grow stronger as you get older and our family grows larger.
         
I want you to know how much I love when you rub my back when I hold you.  It makes me feel needed and loved - because sometimes mamas need that as much as their babies do.   

I want you to know that we are so proud of you and so proud at how much you know.  We don't care that you can't quite pull your own pants up by yourself, or that you can't pedal your tricyle just yet, and we love that you don't seem to care too much either.  The world is full of competitions and comparisons, and so far you seem unphased and untainted by its demands.  Be you and don't take anything in this life too seriously.  You have gifts, amazing ones, and I can't wait to watch you share them with the world.

I want you to know that it hurts a little every morning when I bring you to school and that I pray every day that you know how much we think about you, even when we're at work.  Picking you up and hearing about your day is the highlight of mine and the quality of our time at home is my constant priority.  God has blessed us with jobs we love and a school that loves you, but nothing is more important than these walls we build at home.

I want you to know that sometimes, I can't stop looking at you.  Sometimes, when we're riding in the car, I drink you in, every detail of you and I still can't believe you are mine.  I used to dream about a blond haired, brown eyed little boy and you look just like that boy in my dreams.

I want you to know how much you come to life when we play.  How your eyes light up when we suggest we play pirates, superheros, or racecars, and how interested you are in using your imagination.  Watching you pretend is one of my favorite things in the entire world.  This summer, I spent a lot of time just watching you play and I'm convinced there's no greater picture of contentment.   

I want you to know that if I had special powers, I would ask for a remote that allowed me to stop time every now and then just to keep you little.   I taught Catcher in the Rye for five years to high schoolers, but didn't truly understand what Holden felt until I found myself holding you in that hospital room. 
     
I want you to know that my happiness is seeing you happy.  That my heart smiles when you smile and that I've found more joy in the last two and a half years than I ever thought possible.  I'm not sure what I did to deserve you, but I hope you know how much I love being your mama. 

Some pictures from our last few weeks of summer.  We've had so much fun.