December 27, 2011 by Marj Hatzell
My dearest, sweetest Bugaboo,
Cliche but true, the past nine years have zipped by and here I am with tears in my eyes, longing for that delicious, chubby baby with the world’s biggest smile. You came into this world in the wee hours of the morning (no surprise you like being up at that time of night, huh?) via emergency c-section. Not exactly what I had planned (natural birth, midwives). In fact, nothing about the past nine years has been what we thought. Not the turning over at a week, sitting and crawling at a mere three months, cruising by five months and walking at eight months. Shoulda been a big, red flag that we were in trouble.
The past nine years have been filled with intense emotions. For every sh*tty day there five awesome ones these days. Your smile and giggle when you wake up in the morning (for the fourth or fifth time) erase my exhaustion and fill me with hope. I love you so intensely, little man. We certainly have our ups and downs. Many, many downs. But those ups make it all worth it. Every blessed second, every sleepless night, every wall we have to reprint every visit to a specialist, every hour of therapy. It is all worth it, just to give you the best life we can give you.
I have to admit there ARE days when I feel like I just can’t do this anymore. I get so exhausted and feel so defeated, especially when you have an extended school break. The breaks get better and better as you grow and improve and make progress. I know they are very hard for you and I try to keep that in perspective. If I feel defeated and out of control and off schedule, I can imagine you feel ten times what I feel. Except you have no way to tell me. And that makes me so sad! I want to hear you talk, but even more I want others to hear you so they don’t count you out anymore. So they don’t give up on you. But don’t worry, we will NEVER give up. We will fight to our dying day for you.
You have done some new things lately. The other day when you came into the kitchen crying and I asked if you had an “ouch” you nodded yes! And you showed me your head where it hurt! I nearly fell over. Of course, I didn’t realize at the time that you trashed your brother’s room and I felt sorry for you for a moment. By the way, you are freakishly strong. I can’t lift that mattress from the top bunk, how the heck do you get it over the railing and onto the floor? I weigh three times what you do. Sheesh.
And this year you were all about Santa. Apparently practicing in school is a good thing. You opened two presents this year! And when Santa came on the fire truck Christmas Eve you made a beeline for the lights and sirens and wanted to hop right up there…but not too close…and see what it was all about. When it was time to get down from the truck you wouldn’t take the candy cane. Your brother looked a little worried. And then you wouldn’t get off. I had to carry you off screaming. But you liked sitting with Santa…well, two feet from Santa. But still! It wasn’t until the next morning I put two and two together and realized you didn’t want the candy cane because in school you got a little present from Santa. And you wouldn’t get off the truck because you expected the present because that’s how you practiced it at school. Whoopsy. Momma will be better prepared next time. My bad.
I am also THRILLED you know how to open the door locks and have made the whole hiding-the-key thing completely useless. Ahem. And by thrilled I mean a little annoyed. Ok, a lot annoyed. You keep me on my toes. We are rarely, if ever, bored.
As difficult as this life has been I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Every moment in the past nine years has been totally worth it just to have you in my life. You are a sweet, charming little guy who keeps things in perspective for me. Thanks for reminding me what is truly important in life and not to sweat the small stuff. Life is so much bigger. I can’t wait to see what the next year will bring us.
(Try not to make the surprises too difficult or, um, messy or destructive, mmkay? Like, no more water leaking through the kitchen ceiling or climbing into the fireplace or stimming on bleach and stuff? Because momma is gonna be forth and I have grey hair and I kinda need a break, mmkay? Thanks for that.)