Baby, I’m amazed at the way I love you.
Owen. Owen, Owen, Owen. I can’t believe how beautiful and perfect you are. I can’t believe that I made you.
Every day, I love you a little bit more. Every day, I marvel at your awesomeness, for you are Totally Rad. I just love being your mom. I hesitate to admit this, but when I was pregnant, I wasn’t sure how the whole motherhood thing would hit me. But it suits me to a T. I love being your momma. I love that you love me, and that I love you, and that we love each other, and that we love your Daddy, too.
Every day, I’m astounded by our bond. I always thought “bond” was a crappy, cheap New Agey word, some shortcut to admitting you have feelings for somebody. But it’s not, at least not with you and me. You can’t talk [well, you can’t speak English, anyway, not yet], but you and I, we communicate. We have our own language, and it’s a true one. We understand each other. I even get your jokes.
People might not think that a four-month-old baby could make jokes, but you can. You blow buzzies at me, waiting to see if I “get it.” Oh, I do, little boy, I do. We have entire conversations in which the spit flies fast and furious, and you do your little hee-haw laugh thing. It’s adorable.
Every day, I’m floored by what you can do. Nobody will believe me when I say this, but it’s true: You know how to turn the pages in your board books. We’ll be reading “There’s a Woset in my Closet,” and I’ll say, “turnna page,” and your big fat chubby fingers will reach out, and awkwardly grasp the page, and somehow manage to turn it. One time? A fluke, I’m sure. But several times in a row? Well, that’s probably a fluke, too, but a mother can dream.
You know, “fulfilled” is a cheap sentiment these days, too, but that’s how I feel. Rich. Filled up. Infinitely lucky.
You make my world go ‘round, little man. Every day, you take a little piece of my heart, and every day, I let you. Nay, give it to you. Here, the whole thing.
It’s yours.
I love you.
Comments
8 Responses to “Baby, I’m amazed at the way I love you.”
recent flickr
-
my sewing tutorials
See my tutorials featured on SMS' Handmade Holidays!
Me, elsewhere
- del.icio.us bookmarks
- flickr photolog
- last.FM music profile
- please send vodka
- ravelry knitting notebook
- twitter tiny updates
Et cetera
blog hosting: Meancode Media
I think it it so great that Owen will be able to go back and read this awesome post (and entire blog) at any time in his life (if you keep it going as I guess you will). Motherhood in the blogging age is really cool, sometimes I wish I could go read nice things my mom said about me when I was in diapers
How could you not love that adorable guy? Get this, it gets better!!! Bo is 5 months and I’m amazed at the things he now does and seeing him interact with other people is pretty cool too.
so sweet.
ps. he’s totally talented — the whole fist!
Tell me about! Picture the party tricks he’ll be able to do later.
Some years from now you and he may not see eye to eye on everything. When that time comes(and probably more that once I imagine)interesting things happen. Both your voices will rise up yet both pairs of lips will tighten and jaws will be clenched. Your vision narrows and all either of you see is how much the other doesn’t understand. Of course blood pressure will rise. Each heart goes faster as each heart starts to break. After one (or both) of you stomp off and things quiet down this BLOG needs to be available. It needs to be very accessible. That way one of you (or maybe even me)can pull it out, dust it off, and slide it under the door to where the other is crying. No one has to say they’re sorry. Neither has to admit to being wrong. Mary Beth you just put into words in this latest BLOG entry the bottom line…that the bond between a mother and a child will always be there. The bond that the mother felt even before any heartbeat could be heard has obviously been very, very set into your heart.
You so just made me cry!! You are such an awsome person and a wonderful mother. Owen is lucky to have a great parents like you and Iain.
Wow. Thank you, Dad. I’ve stopped weeping long enough to write this. And thank you, too, Jen. And Lostgal, I think it would be amazing to read what my mother was thinking when I was a wee tot. I can’t imagine what form this blog will take 10 or 20 years from [will there even be an Internet as we know it?] but I’ve been thinking about exporting the entries and binding them to have a hard copy, archives, if you will, of this.
So cool.