the one I will read when he’s a teenager

Dear OBaby,

If you come back to this blog, this chronicle of your first 3.5 months of life someday and read it (or maybe your future wife will read it and tell you about it. That seems more realistic.) I don’t want you to get the impression that by your mere entrance into this world you have made my life harder. Harder doesn’t even begin to describe it. You have made it so many other beautiful things that the ‘harder’ barely seems relevant.

Important. OBaby, you have made my life feel important. It isn’t as though before I had you I didn’t live an important life, it’s just that, before you, the importance of my life didn’t wake up in my bed, smiling at me every morning. I love that you need me. I love that every cell in your body came from mine (with one glaring exception). I love that when you are crying, however hysterically, in someone else’s arms, the very act of being put into Mommy’s arms will soothe you. (We can address your notion of crying in anyone’s arms but Mommy’s another time.)

Watched. It’s amazing how much more I consider my words and actions with your little (if not yet comprehending) ears in the room. Through these last 15 weeks I have become acutely aware of a multitude of my flaws. While I am only human (you and I both know I am no super-mom), you make me want to be a better person. I have begun thinking about the fruits I produce more than I had at any other season of my life. Am I being patient? Peaceful? Gentle? My character is being observed by your little eyes, always.

Dependent. Ho-lee weakness do I ever need God’s grace. I love that you have waltzed into my life and since day one have been teaching me about my relationship with God. You are one of the greatest pieces of curriculum the Lord could ever use to shape my life. I am so excited for what I get to learn through you for the rest of my days. I mean, could there be a cuter lesson plan?

Joy-filled. I never knew walks or bath times could be so much fun! Last night in your bath Daddy picked up your washcloth and squeezed it out on your tummy over and over again. You were just laughing and laughing and it was the most beautiful thing I have ever heard. I could not help but laugh along with you. We spend our evenings singing Broadway songs to you, tickling you, and smiling at you, and because of that your very presence fills our house with more joy than it’s ever had before.

Blessed. I keep having these huge life defining moments, you know? Those out of body experience where you’re looking at your son, your beautiful laughing son, being tickled by your husband, the love of your life, and you just wonder when did I get here? And how the stink did I get so blessed? Is it possible to explode from amazement? I have at least one ‘step back and try to take it all in’ moment with you everyday. Yesterday you were taking a nap on my lap and I wondered if it was possible to bottle up that moment and save it so that I could revisit it someday. Could I just press pause? Bookmark this page in life? It’s just too perfect to lose.

Thank you so much for being my son and for all that you add to my life, OBaby. I love you.


6 Responses to “the one I will read when he’s a teenager”

  1. Sarah

    Please note, Obaby’s future wife’s mommy reads this blog:)
    Such a pleasure to watch this little fellow grow. What a remarkable little boy you have there, he will do good things in this world. I feel it in my bones this charming, chubby, adorable boy will be an amazing, Godly and kind man.
    Lots like his daddy I bet.

  2. Kara

    Funny – I always have the same thought re: my son’s journal – I write to him, thinking that he’ll read it some day. Then I have a reality check – maybe he’ll have a wife that might want to read my ramblings?

  3. rebekah

    Hehe…sorry to correct you, but I wouldn’t want Obaby to look back and say, “I was doing SO much at 3.5 days! And I was HUGE!”

    take care…


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