As soon as we found out that we were expecting a girl, we were greeted with a bunch of expected remarks.
“How wonderful to have one of each!”
“You have a mini-Jeff and now you’ll get a mini-Jen!” (This statement creeps me out. I prefer my kids to be their own people and not mini-versions of us, thanks.)
“Yay, your own little princess!”
Oh but, dear daughter, I have some news for you. While I truly believe you can become anything you want to be, you will never be a princess.
I encourage you to run Princess, though!
I want you to know that you don’t need to don yourself in fancy dresses, make-up, and hairspray to look beautiful. You won’t ever need a man to rescue you – you’ll be able to take care of yourself. Things will never be given to you, and no one (besides me) will ever wait on you.
But, let’s face it, mommy loves Disney and before I know it, I’m sure you’ll be begging for princess costumes, wands, and tiaras. While I won’t buy these things for you before you ask, I know I’ll give in once you truly want them. And I’ll be OK with it. Because even fairytale princesses have admirable qualities.
Do me a favor? See the princesses for more than their impeccable, unrealistic features and their glittery ensembles.
When you look at Belle, see the woman who can get lost in a good book. The girl who puts her family first, who knows she’s too good for cocky men, and who sees other people’s hearts and not just their physical features.
When you look at Pocahontas, see the woman who doesn’t settle for something that others think she should. Take the time to look around and appreciate the great outdoors, and always be kind to others -- especially if they’re new in town.
When you look at Ariel, see the woman who ask questions and wants to explore the world. And don’t overlook her resourcefulness – a fork as a hairbrush? Pure genius.
When you look at Cinderella, see a woman who’s not afraid to ask for help. In real life, Fairy Godmothers won’t send you to a ball, but people will be eager and willing to help you in every stage through life – all you have to do is ask.
When you look at Jasmine, see the woman who wants to take action when she’s unhappy. You only get one life, so never settle for being anything less than happy. But please don’t run away from home!
When you look at Snow White… meh, don’t look at Snow White. Living with seven men just won’t end well.
Sorry Snow – but it’s true.
And please forgive Daddy and I for never calling you “princess”. I hope one day you will understand.
Two Thanksgiving eves ago, my son was born. And while he came a bit early, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that his arrival coincided with the holiday of thanks.
My children will always be what I am most thankful for.
Even when they don’t want to be held.
Both Wyatt and his sister-to-be truly are miracles, and in the past week I was reminded of that again. Good timing, huh?
Last Friday, we had our anatomy scan. As I’ve already shared, everything looks perfect. It was just 3 months ago when my doctor wanted to send me to the hospital for a mini D&C (miscarriage surgery). You guys, two ob/gyns in my practice gave this baby no chance. None – and now everything looks normal. If I didn’t already have an appointment scheduled that week with my RE, I would have gone through with the surgery. I cannot even imagine.
This Monday, Wyatt had his two-year checkup. I didn’t share much after Wyatt’s on-year checkup, but you all know he’s had eating and weight struggles. Well, he’s now in the 25th percentile for weight (75th for height). This is a huge gain from where he was last year. Developmentally he’s right on track, too. His doctor even said “wow, Wyatt, I was really worried about you for awhile but now you’re perfect.” I’m still in shock – seriously, I did not expect the number I saw on the scale. I have no idea how we avoided a feeding tube and how he is eating enough to grow, but obviously something is working.
Coming in for a hug.
So, yeah, I’m feeling all sorts of thankful this Thanksgiving. Nothing matters more to me than my kids’ health and happiness. Right now, they’re both healthy and I think at least one of them is happy.
He’s probably not going to be so thrilled when it’s 24 degrees F during our turkey trot tomorrow…
Happy Thanksgiving, friends!
Tomorrow you turn two. Two years old.
I can’t believe I’ve only known you for 730 days. It’s crazy how most of those 730 days – ok the nights mostly – seemed to last forever, but collectively they went by in a blink of an eye. Just like everyone warned me they would.
I feel like I’ve known you forever, like you’ve always been a part of me. I was always meant to be “Wy’s mama” (as you say) and you were always meant to be my son.
Don’t worry, daddy feels this way too – he just sucks at expressing his feelings.
I know what makes you happy. Shopping carts, stop signs, swings and slides, swimming, being chased, hugging stuffed animals, hanging around real cats, and trying to play with other kids.
I know what you’re afraid of. So far, it’s just bugs if they’re in your way or mommy getting checked out by the doctor.
I know what sets you off. Too long in the carseat, not enough sleep, coming in from outside, or putting “yucky” food (like meat or vegetables or anything with fat in it) in front of you.
I know you want to be independent so badly. Outside, you can never run away from mommy fast enough and you don’t even look back when I drop you off at school anymore. You won’t let daddy and I help you do much – this leads to a huge mess when you eat yogurt and a lot of frustration when you want your shoes on. Luckily, this also means you love to help us out – I can only hope this lasts.
I know you are a very sweet little boy, and I’m not just saying that because I’m your mom. Your teachers tell me how patient you are with other kids and how the only time you protest is when is when it’s time to come in from outside – which isn’t shocking to me. You’re always hugging, kissing, and cuddling with your stuffed animals and me. You still want me to rock you at night – which is something I’m so grateful for.
I know you’re so curious and smarter than I realize. You don’t have the entire alphabet down but you know strings of letters that go together and can identify almost every letter individually. When we fold laundry together, you always know which articles of clothing are mine and which are daddy’s. And your memory is incredible. You’ll remember playdates from months ago and (accurately) tell me which friend was playing with which toy. You amaze me every single day.
I know what your laugh sounds like – it’s my favorite noise in the world and something that will stay imprinted in my mind forever. I can identify your “there’s something really wrong” cry vs. your “my train is stuck” cry in a split second. I can tell by the pitch of your scream if you’re shrieking in delight, fear, or anger. I feel like I know you better than I know myself.
But Wyatt there is so, so much I don’t know about you yet.
I don’t know what your favorite color is. Yesterday you told me it was yellow, and then an hour later you picked blue. I don’t know how your interests will evolve. Will you always love books and being active? I don’t know how you’ll be with your friends. It takes you awhile to warm up to people now. I don’t know if you’ll enjoy school. Want to be a superhero. Play a musical instrument. I don’t know if you’ll be a dreamer or a realist. If you’ll always share things with me. If you’ll continue to be proud of your work. I don’t know when you’ll be bullied for the first time, and I don’t know when you’ll get your first broken bone… or worse, broken heart. And I have no idea how I’ll keep calm in any of these situations and be a good role model for you.
But I do know that I will be there every step of the way.
I remember thinking when you were 18 months old that it was the best age ever. I wanted to freeze time and keep you my happy, little 18 month old forever. Now I see what a foolish wish that was. These last 6 months have been amazing, and I can’t believe I basically wished to miss out on them.
I can’t wait to keep watching you grow. I’m so glad I have a front row seat to watching you become your own person.
I know that no matter what, I will always love you so much. I will always support you. I will be here whenever you need me. I will spend the rest of my life just like I did the past 730 days – trying to keep you happy and healthy.
Happy birthday, Wyatt. Thank you so much for choosing me to be your mom.