I fear that I spend more time writing letters to you in my head than actually putting the thoughts down.
Life has certainly changed for us in the last month. The company I worked for shut down and I lost my job January 2nd. I let you finish the week out in daycare while I got my bearings and figured out what it would mean. The following Monday you started to stay at home with me all day. At first, we struggled to find our routine. I had grown accustomed to my daily rituals at the office and the anticipation of picking you up each evening. You were used to a room full of babies, two to three ladies taking turns with you and solid meal and nap times. You have also been in the throes of some serious teething which I feel certain hasn’t helped either one of us find a daily pattern.
This past week, however, has been different for us. I’m learning to “let go” of the idea that doing more than taking care of you is a necessity. I have to teach myself that the dishes can wait, the laundry will still be there and our house doesn’t have to look “perfect” every day. I’m learning how to live “in the moment” with you and to relish each new discovery you make.
To have all of this one-on-one time with you is a gift. Granted, it’s a gift that came in a way that made life harder for us in certain areas. But, it is indeed a gift. You are crossing milestones and I’m lucky enough to see them as they happen. You are becoming a fast snake crawler. (You wriggle your body across the floor so fast but only using your legs. You haven’t quite put the elbow up on the floor together part yet). You enjoy music in a way that just makes me grin from the inside out. In the morning we listen to the radio or a record while you eat breakfast. You pay close attention to the sounds and often get distracted from eating. When we are playing you are always drawn to this musical turtles that plays different instruments. You love to play with your father’s ukulele and will seek it out from across the room.
This is a time of great stress for our family because of the unknown. But I can say without a doubt, that even in the moments where our future is so unclear – when I feel like I’m carrying a great load of burden – I am so in awe of this love that I have for you. Each day you teach me to be a little more patient with the world – and myself. And I know that when this time has passed I will ache for these days with you.
You are so very loved and treasured, my sweet boy.
I love you.