Hi everyone,
I missed my Sunday posting. Ethan and I were having a baby-mommy date, which involved a walk, an electric bike ride, rock collecting, and chasing butterflies in Village Hill. This was followed by a nap in the car outside of the mall, a pizza lunch, and finally, a trip to the arcade. Guess who got something out of the claw machine and got a high score on the ball toss? It wasn’t me…
And, this!
June 15th, 2021
Dear Ethan,
I haven’t written in a while, and I’ve been tired out by constant movement. So much of motherhood involves being in ten places at once and the few seconds you have to yourself you just fall asleep with a book in your lap or an idea of something that’s vague in your memory, like a manicure or a haircut. I have so much fun being your mom! Some things you’ve started to say:
“Don’t be scared, really, it’s okay, I’m here.”
“That was a super delicious lunch, wow, thank you. Do you have a recipe?”
“Hey, mama, do you know about germs? Can I see one?”
“I want to make me small so I can drive this toy car!”
“What a nice sunny day. Yep. A nice sunny day (legs swinging on the hood of the car).”
I love your friendliness and your deep, deep feelings. You feel exposed if you don’t have sunglasses on and your ball cap, and when I put on my glasses in the morning, you put on your sunglasses too if they’re nearby. I used to hate the early hours of the morning—but I love hearing your little voice shout at 6 am, “Hey! It’s morning! Time to get up!” as you helpfully hand me my glasses, turn on all the lights, and skip along to the kitchen to decide what you want for breakfast.
Other things you’ve started to do: only want to take showers instead of baths, insist on washing your hands (yes!), want to walk ahead and independently—no handholding for you—but then when things get scary you still jump into my arms. When we get ready to go anywhere, you hop into the driver’s seat. No more Duplo Legos for you—I’m starting to fall deeply into the world of tiny little builds that are oddly exciting—to see what the mystery package holds.
You want to read books that are longer and more complicated. Favorite stories include The Three Little Pigs and the Little Golden book collection. We had a good run with Pirate Stew. You think my mama bear, daddy bear, and baby bear voices are hilarious. Actually, you’re one of the few people who think I’m really funny—and you always notice when I change the endings to the stories or edit out words that aren’t working in stories.
You know that I write things sometimes, even, that I’m writing you a book. I love your precision, your intelligence, and your bubbliness that is noticeable in any space you inhabit. You burn the brightest, and I love you so much!
Mama