A Letter to My Son…

Dear BabyBoy,

Right now, you are taking a rare nap and it’s all I can do to not wake you up and kiss you over and over and hug your precious body until you giggle.

One day, when you are a parent, you will understand why, once I have told you a story…I want to tell you about a precious little boy named Atticus Hansen. I read his story, and by the end of it, I was crying. I felt the ache in my heart that Atticus’s mother felt.

You see, Atticus was diagnosed at 4 years old with a terrible disease. And less than 5 months later, Atticus’s mommy, daddy, and baby brother said goodbye.

I want to take this time to say something to you, because reading his story put some things in perspective.

I am not mad at you for not sleeping, because there are parents out there who would love to be woken up again. I am not upset that in the middle of the night you turn me into a mindless zombie with a penchant for tea and Oreos. I will not be frustrated when all you want is for me to hold you, and no one else will do, because I am going to try to shift to an “attitude of gratitude”, and cherish that you adore me so much that you never want to give me a break.

I can’t promise perfection. I can’t promise that I won’t sigh tiredly and murmur “I wish you’d just sleep through the night already” as I rock you back to sleep. I can’t promise that I will always be glad that you only want me to hold you, because Mommy is a person who needs her by herself time too. But I will try.

Because life is fleeting and it is not guaranteed that we will all grow old and grey, and while we like to think that only the old and sickly pass away, life is not so fair, and many times people are taken from us far too soon.

For now, for all the days we are given, I will hold you and love you to the best of my ability (because I really can’t promise I won’t sigh in frustration and beg you to go to sleep…I can’t even remember drinking tea or eating Oreos, but the empty cup with the tea bag was there, along with a half eaten Oreo).

But even when I am aggravated with you (or your sisters, this applies to them too), beneath it, I will remember to be grateful for the frustration, because there are so many with heavy hearts and empty arms who would give anything asked of them for just one more moment of “aggravation”.

It is always easy to be grateful for the fun times, the happy times, the easy times, but we must also learn to welcome the little annoyances, the little frustrations. When I am nagging your sisters to clean their room, I will try to be thankful underneath the irritation, because there are many who would love the chance to nag someone to clean their room.

I am trying very hard not to wake you from your nap. Instead, I will go hug and kiss your sisters.

I love you,



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