Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Love Letter

Dear Sam,

You're two, almost three. It's a tough age. For both of us. Lately I've been asking myself why you are such a dick so much of the time. Is it because you have a new sister who you have to share us with? Is it just "the age"? Or is it me? Do I expect too much from you? Am I too strict and need to chill out?

But today I had a bit of a realization about this boundary testing you are doing, this quest for control that you have undertaken.

Took me long enough, but here it is.

Sam, my darling boy. My sweet, funny, bright, two-almost-three-year-old . . .

The rules will always be the same. You are never allowed to bite your sister's nose or run over the cat with your bike. You must share your toys with your friends if you expect them to share with you. Hitting me will always gain you a time out. If you throw things, they will be taken away for the rest of the day. You must say please and thank you.

Your routine will always be stable. We never watch TV before breakfast. There will be meals and snacks at regular, predictable times, and for-the-love-of-my-sanity we always have quiet time after lunch so please stop telling me you don't want to!! You will wash your hands after using the toilet. You will use soap. Before bed you have a bath, brush your teeth and we read books together . . . after which I expect you to actually GO TO BED. Tomorrow we will do it all again.

The answers to certain questions will always be the same, so - omg - you can stop asking!!! Yes, that is Lucy. No, you may not jump on the bed while she is laying there. Yes, I'm making you french toast. No, the coffee table is not a Sam table so please get down off of it. No, you may not play with the nail clippers. Because you could cut yourself. No, no, no. Because, because, because.

Yes, that is wine in my glass. No, you can't have any.

But most importantly, Sam, I will always love you. No matter how often you throw your toys or don't share. No matter how many time-outs I give. No matter how impatient I get with your repetitive questions or whining refusal to cooperate. No matter how strict I may seem, or how high I set the bar for you.

No matter how many babies I have after you.

I will ALWAYS love you more than you can imagine.

And I know that you are just experimenting to discover which boundaries of your universe are absolute and which can be bent to your will. I get that. So I will try to be more patient, more understanding, more enthusiastic. I will try to remember that everything is a big deal to you, even if it is terribly mundane to me. And I will take a deep breath before losing my cool and practice saying yes more often than no.

When I'm having difficulty enjoying your company, I'll try to add to this list:

I love watching your little brain work when you're trying to figure something out.
I love the expression on your face when I've given you an answer that you know is not true. Don't worry, it's just sarcasm. You'll become very familiar with it.
I love your belly laugh.
I love when you come cuddle with me in the morning after dad leaves for work.
I love how you kiss your little sister goodnight.

You're a cool little dude, Sam. I like hanging out with you and watching the person you are growing into.

xoxox  Mum

1 comment:

  1. As I read this during an ungodly hour nursing session, I awake my husband by saying out loud "J, I fu@{!n' love you." (And must then clarify to my groggy, half asleep husband).
    Thank you for being so honest (and funny). It is reassuring to know that I am not the only mother with a 3 year old "Richard".
    PS. Great theme, great pics. I, was too tired (or lazy) to plan anything more elaborate than a family dinner and a DQ cake.