Dear Jack,
I can’t believe I have a baby human child running around my house…
It’s 5 days before your 18th month of being on this earth. My 18 month old baby boy… WOW.
As I sit here, drinking my coffee, watching you run your Learning Barn full-speed into every piece of furniture you possibly can, I STILL can’t believe the tiny human before me is something I made.
I made a person. You’d think it’d start to sink in at some point – I have a baby… Correction: I have an 18 month TODDLER. When will I fully grasp that there’s a child in my world? Will you be 5 before I finally start to believe it? 15?? 50???
All that you bring to this household (besides your singing animals, dancing dolls, and buzzing, blinking, anxiety-inducing toys), has made your dad and me the happiest we’ve ever been.
Don’t get me wrong. You’re a lotta work and I’m also the tiredest I’ve ever been (is tiredest even a word??). I’m tired AF. I complain about it a lot. Too much…
But when I’m able to take a breath, step back from all the work, and really drink in all the amazing that you are, I’m still nothing short of dumbfounded that you’re here… my 18 month old boy, growing up so fast… and just making yourself at home in my life.
The love I have for you – the pride I have in you – is so immense it hurts. It actually makes my chest HURT. Who’d’ve thunk it?? I’m so in love it hurts.
We’re talking a physical feeling here… not just an emotion. The joy is so overwhelming, I actually think I might burst into pieces.
All the “parents love for their children” cliches… They’re cliches for a reason: they’re true. The love a parent has for a kid is indescribable. It’s truly like nothing else. It transcends all other feelings.
(Real talk: that love is actually something that preserves your life on a near-daily basis… ‘cause your 18 month old behavior often makes me understand why some animals eat their young!)
I’m still not to the point that I look at those first few difficult weeks/months through rose-colored glasses. I’ll never miss it, never wish I had it back, never want to do it again.
It was hard. I was tired, miserable, in pain, overwhelmed, stunned, and every other difficult and unexplainable emotion you can think of. All while being completely in love… I just had a hard time concentrating on the being-in-love part with all the other emotions that were swirling around.
Something instinctual kicked in, tho, overtaking the exhaustion and misery. ‘Cause I fiercely protected you (even from your own family… hormones make ya do weird things!), nursed you like our lives depended on it (well, yours actually did, I guess), and met all your needs (and then some). You were mine, and I was committed! The biology of it all was pretty fascinating…
We must’ve done something right, ‘cause now, here you are… my 18 month old toddler. Very soon, nursing will be over (don’t get me started on that, I’ll cry for the ten thousandth time).
Very soon, we’ll be starting the post-toddler years, then pre-school, then school-school. As I actively plan for it all, I somehow still can’t believe it’s happening…
I. Just. Can’t. Believe. You’re. Here.
And if this disbelief never goes away… if the mystery of you — who you are, how you got here (yes, I know where babies come from, I’m talking about something spiritual, here!), and why you ended up with us — never goes away, it’s okay. It’s the best feeling of disbelief I could ever ask for.
I LOVE YOU SO MUCH. Happy 18 month anniversary!!!
The kid thing… It won’t ever stop baffling me. I never wanted to do it, and it sucks most of the time, but I wouldn’t change it for the world. In the words of one of the best rom-coms EVER (Fools Rush In, baby!):
“You are the only thing I never knew I always wanted.”
