My Baby You'll Be

Dear Harrison,

You are three years old today! Sometimes it feels like it was only three days ago that we first met, when the doctor placed you on my chest and I fell in love with you with one teary glimpse. But unlike the last two, I've seen this birthday coming. You have been growing up on me for several months now, making it impossible to deny that you are now a little boy and no longer a baby (even if I squint really, really hard!).

I so enjoy my days with you. Even when they are rough and long, they always end on such a sweet note and I am reminded just how blessed I am to have you. At the end of our bedtime ritual I always tell you all the things that you are. You are smart. You are sweet. You are a hoot. You are boisterous, animated, entertaining, persuasive, energetic, charming, spirited, independent, handsome, loving, witty, and bold. There aren't enough adjectives in my vocabulary to adequately describe your well-rounded personality. But out of all of the things that I want you to believe about yourself, I hope that you know most of all that you are loved.

When I asked how old you're going to be on your birthday you eagerly responded, I'm going to be three! And then four! And then five!  And then you looked at me and inquisitively asked, Momma, when will I get to be two again? And with that simple question you caused a lump in my throat and tears to well up in my eyes. I'll never have you at two ever again. The passing of time is such a basic concept yet your mommy sure has a hard time accepting it. You at two has been a fabulous adventure and I will treasure it in my heart forever.

Happy Birthday, Buddy!

Love,
Mommy

The baby grew. He grew and he grew and he grew. He grew until he was two years old, and he ran all around the house. He pulled all the books off the shelves. He pulled all the food out of the refrigerator and he took his mother's watch and flushed it down the toilet. Sometimes his mother would say, "This kid is driving me CRAZY!" 

But at night time, when that two-year-old was quiet, she opened the door to his room, crawled across the floor, looked up over the side of his bed; and if he was really asleep she picked him up and rocked him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. While she rocked him she sang:

I'll love you forever,

I'll like you for always,

As long as I'm living

my baby you'll be. 

{excerpt from our favorite book, Love You Forever by Robert Munsch}