A letter for Beckett

Hi sweet boy.

We survived one whole year together.

I can’t believe it’s been one year since I met you and your chipmunky cheeks for the first time. If we’re being completely honest, (something you’ll learn is unavoidable with me) I had no idea what to do with you when you came out. While you were in my belly, I just took you where I wanted to go, we ate what I wanted to eat, and we slept when I wanted to sleep. Once you were born, well…you had a few opinions of your own.

Once you were born, our whole lives changed.

At first, I wasn’t sure how I felt about the whole thing. You were a little screamy, I didn’t know what to do with you, feeding you was confusing and painful, and you decided staying awake was much better than sleeping. Ever.

But I’ve got to hand it to you – you, little nugget, are pretty cute. Day by day, my confidence in being your mommy grew, (Sometimes it reverted, like the time you pooped everywhere at a crowded restaurant, but we’ll get to that some other time.) and little by little you won me over. Hopefully I’m at the pinnacle of love for you, because I seriously don’t think I could want to eat you any more than I currently do. (Was that a weird statement? I’m sorry.)

Once we hit the stage of life where you would look into my eyes and I knew you knew I was your mommy, not to be easily replaced with the first Target cashier we saw, it was game over. I began going into your room every few hours after I’d put you to bed because I couldn’t stand not seeing you for 10 whole hours. I was a sucker for those big blue eyes and squishy chipmunk cheeks.

Now, one year later, I can’t believe how much you’ve changed. You are so smart, so curious, so happy, so fun. You can skip a nap and be content. You will sit and flip through books for hours – page by page, over and over. You squeal with delight when Mack is laying on the floor instead of the couch, begging you to hug and squeeze him (so you think). Your pointer is in overdrive, pointing out all the fun things you see: animals, balloons, pieces of colorful lint. You communicate using words (mostly animal sounds, but also mama, dada, ball, uh-oh, hi, etc.) and sign language (more, all-done). You walk around strutting your stuff like you run the place, which is pretty accurate.

We pray for you all the time, baby boy. We pray that you become a mighty man of God, that you love people, that your heart aches for peace and justice. That you always laugh, enjoy life, and experience new things. That you are full of the fruits of the spirit, quick to love, and slow to anger. That you respect and learn from your elders, that you look out for and befriend the underdogs and outcasts. That you listen and make people feel important. That you remember where you’ve come from and whose you are. That you never have to learn who Nicki Minaj is.

You are such an incredible blessing to our family, Beckett boy. We love you forever and like you for always.