You, My Boy, Are More

by Ginger on March 28, 2012

in Mom Thoughts, The Kid

This is how I see you, most of the time.

Laughing, smiling, and a blur from wiggling and moving.

Some days I know I focus too much on the hard parts. Especially here. This place is where I work through my own feelings of failing, of my own feelings that I’m not enough for you, that I’m not doing what I should for you. Of frustration and challenge and doubt.

But oh, my boy, you are so much more than the challenges you bring. You are SO much more than the sum of my insecurity.

You are filled with the toddlerisms and funny appropriations of the things we’ve said in your presence. You say things like “How aboooouuuutttt…3?” in your best bargaining tone when we offer you one prune. You want to “hold Mommy’s turtles” (translation: shoulders) when we’re in a public bathroom and I don’t want you holding onto the toilet. You say “packpack” and “goggie”  and “hmmmmmm” and my favorite, “I lub you Mommy.”

You are filled with adventure and curiosity. You want to check out the spaces next, above, below, and on the side of the path. You want to see how things work. You want to climb up to see on the other side of things. You climb the big kid’s rock wall, and though I stand there beneath you, that’s more for me to feel like I’m helping than because you need me to be there. I have yet to find a thing that makes you afraid, and though I’m sure the day will come, your joy at trying to conquer life is awesome to watch. You have no fear and no trepidation and (once we can teach you safety) this will treat you well in life my little man.

You love people. You’ve never met someone you don’t like, and seem to seek out people who view you with trepidation. It’s not uncommon for you to wave and yell “Oh HIIII. HIIIII!!” to the one person in the crowd who has a scowl on their face–and you pretty much always get a smile and a wave back. You’ve been known to run up to strangers when we’re walking on the trail and tackle them in a hug (we’re working on teaching you when that’s appropriate. Luckily you’ve yet to pick someone who’s day you didn’t brighten immensely by that moment of pure openness). I hope you always find it in you to love the people around you this much.

You work so hard to figure things out and have such a sense of accomplishment when you do. About a month or two ago, we got these ABC and number flashcards (I don’t know kid, you like flashcards. Who am I to argue?). You take such pride in getting all the letters, and are working so hard on the numbers. Every car ride you ask “letters pease?” At least once a day, you say “numer cards?” You work and work at it, staring intently at those cards, until you can say with triumph “X! Xylophone!” This is just one of a million examples of your tenacity and desire to learn (on your terms, of course). I want you to always have this drive and pride at learning.

You, my boy, are so much more than I can put into words. You are funny and sweet. You are temperamental and persistent. You are loving and curious. You are tenacious and adorable and clever and strong and friendly and happy and the very best thing your dad and I have ever been given. For every moment that I struggle and doubt and worry and stress, you give me 50 where I laugh and learn and am in awe at who you are.

You are so utterly, amazingly YOU that I can’t even begin to wrap my brain around all your you-ness. You, my boy, are so, so much more than I could ever try to capture in photographs or words.

You are so, so much more.

Kate March 28, 2012 at 3:38 pm

Just beautiful. Isn’t parenting SO much more than you ever imagined it’d be? It’s truly amazing.

melanie juneau March 28, 2012 at 5:12 pm

wonderfull writing; you capture the toddler’s energy, zest for living and discovering. The years from 18 months to four years old are delightful. Some days it seemed that I received much more than I gavemy little ones.

Erin March 29, 2012 at 2:57 pm

This sounds like a very sweet moment in time, and he sounds like a kid with tons of personality. You are doing great — don’t think you’re not. He never will.

Reading (and chickens) March 30, 2012 at 9:40 am

Oh, beautiful. You’re such a good writer, too, Ginger.

Cloud March 31, 2012 at 10:49 pm

Awwww… He sounds like a cutie. And I love the line about him being more than the sum of your insecurity. I totally get that, because I feel that a lot- especially with my first kid, who is the one who has to teach me all of the basics of parenting.

Elizabeth April 3, 2012 at 6:30 pm

What a wonderful child–he really seems like the perfect package. Everything that seems over the top now seems like something that will translate into wonderful adult qualities.

Wendy September 1, 2012 at 7:33 am

SNIFFF.. Going to hug my boy, who at 10, still wants to live with my forever and says “I’m always gonna be your little boy, and you’re always gonna be my Mommy and I’ll always love you.”

Its not always an easy road, but it’s always worth the trip.

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