Rory Emerson,
I have always said that I would make decisions for each of my children based on their own needs. I have always said that I would be flexible. I have always said I would not get so married to an ideal that I overlooked what was best for each child. I always said.... ....but you are the first one to put me to the test. You stretch me, little one. More than anyone else, you stretch me. You pull me out of my comfort zone. You push me to stand up and speak out and say "no" or "I don't agree" or "I want a second opinion" or "this is what we need." You make my head spin with worries and then laugh at my silliness and remind me that my worries fix nothing. You sweep away all pettiness and triviality and force my attention to the things that matter in life... which is so, so much less than I ever could have imagined. So little of what we think is important is actually important but what is important is so much more important than I ever knew. You taught me that, Roo-Bear. You and no one else. Today, I dropped you off at preschool for the first time. Today, I dropped anyone off at preschool for the first time. It sucked. It really, really sucked. We have been a free spirited family giving the middle finger to all things conventional for so long that it felt like a part of my identity was dying as I walked into that school building and handed you over to a public school teacher. You follow a typed schedule now. It is posted on the door of your classroom. You slept on a plastic mat for an hour this afternoon and you ate a Nutrigrain bar for snack. You have never even seen a Nutrigrain bar before. And that seems a small thing to be obsessing over but I just keep thinking about that stupid Nutrigrain bar. I didn't see you for hours. When I picked you up, you crawled to me and you hugged my neck. I wanted to ask you all about your day but I couldn't. You couldn't tell me anything and so it is like seven hours have disappeared into thin air. I read the information sheet your teacher gave me five thousand times, hoping that memorizing everything it says will mean I wasn't really away from you all day long. "Rory had a great first day of school!" it declares perkily. But who kissed his cheeks all day? Because they are really used to being kissed. Did anyone tuck that one unruly curl behind his ear when it got into his eyes? Did his fingers get stepped on? What did he play with? Did you notice him signing "bird" when he saw them outside because it is subtle but he knows how to sign it and he always points them out and he is so proud if you recognize that he did it. How many times did he laugh? Did he miss me? Did he know how much I missed him? Did he feel like he was missing out? Did he feel like I was giving up on him? It was also amazing. When we walked into the classroom this morning, your eyes lit up and a grin spread across your face. Your new friends kept bringing you toys to look at and you didn't even notice when I left. I came early to pick you up and I watched you through the window and you were sitting in your teacher's lap and looking at a book for longer than I have ever seen you pay attention to anything. You flapped your hands in excitement over and over and the smile never left your face. Your classroom is cozy and there are so many things for you to do. When I came in, you were happy to see me...but you cried when it was time to leave. You are going to be so excited to know that you get to go back again and again and again. I don't know if the wonder of it all will ever wear off for you: friends to play with and toys to explore and a playground to play on every day. And its all yours. It is all for you. Also, for the first time today... for the first time since you were a tiny baby... I got to just be your mama. I was not a therapist or a teacher or a doctor. Our moments were not teachable moments. I did not have a checklist of things to practice. I fed you dinner. I gave you a bath. I rubbed lotion on your back. I snuggled you. I read you a book. I tucked you into bed. I was just your mama. It felt really good. I always said that I would do what was best for you. I always said I would be flexible. I always said I would put aside my own desires to meet your needs. Today, you taught me that I really meant it. Because it was hard and I did it anyway and I know that it was the right thing to do. Rory, you are a gift to me. Even the hard parts of being your mama- especially the hard parts of being your mama- are my greatest gift. You delight me. You are magic. I love everything about you. Baby.... I love every single thing about you. I love your milky skin and your bunny rabbit teeth and your long skinny feet... and your diagnosis. I see more beauty in the world because of you. I see more value in people because of you. I let go of ugliness more easily because of you. I stand up for what is right because of you. I forgive people for their flaws because of you. I forgive myself for my flaws because of you. I refuse to waste my energy on pettiness because of you. You are a gift to me and I hope more than I have ever hoped for anything that I do right by you. Rory Emerson, this is your third year on the planet and... I think that this year is the year you are going to soar. I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you. Happy Birthday. - Mama
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WHO AM I?
I am Michelle: a wannabe hippie in love with a bonafide geek. We also spawned. I spend my days with our four wild, beautiful boy children and I overshare about our life online because I am a Millennial and that is what we do.
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