Mother's Day 1

You're sleeping. Again.

That's usually when I write, because if I wrote when you were awake you'd climb something, or eat something, or explore something, or attempt something while I was distracted.

Tomorrow is Mother's Day. My first. Because of you.

I'm so glad it's you. I'm glad that you have a smile for every stranger and face you meet. I'm glad that you laugh and talk with such delight to anyone who will take a moment to talk and laugh back. I'm glad you love exploring and moving. I'm glad you are starting to tell me what you need and what you like and how you like it. I'm glad you love babies and kids, there will hopefully be many more in this family. I'm glad you love the water. I'm glad you love music. I'm glad that you seem glad to be alive.

You make my life so rich and beautiful and full. I still can't imagine really being mad at you. I'm sure that day will come, but the feelings won't last long. They surely won't last beyond the flash of your beautiful smile and the sparkle of those big blue eyes.

Whatever it is you will do that will make me so frustrated or scared or angry, I forgive you. It is only because I love you so much that I want you to be happy and safe. That's not always possible, but I want to protect you. Forgive me for the times when I think I know what's best and I'm wrong, I'll come around.

You have a strong, independent, determined spirit. I hope I can teach you to trust your instincts to act on that. You have a tender, open, loving heart. I hope I can encourage you to continue to nurture and accept and love all the people and creatures you meet.

I love you Van. This Mother's Day I dedicate to you, and all you have helped me become and cherish during your short stay in my life. I hope we have many more Mother's Days to share.