Birthday Letter to Esper

Dear Esper,
It's two months after your 3rd birthday and I'm finally sitting down to write your birthday letter. Two was quite a roller coaster of a year! Mostly because of what I've had to go through. Starting school, Celiac Disease, moving, etc. I've shaken up your world a bit this year and I hope it's ok. Yes, there is guilt about all the times I felt sick. Seeing your mom laying on the floor was hard for you when you wanted me to play with you. I'm sorry. I'll probably say that a lot in our years together. (And after you've moved out and started your own family.) I'm a very imperfect parent and you'll learn that one day.

I recently heard about a study where kids are given a cracker box and asked what is inside. They say crackers, of course, even though the box is filled with rocks. But when asked what the kids think their mom would say was in the box, the 3-year-olds say "rocks." The older ones know that their mom would think it was crackers too. But no, not the 3-year-olds. You are still at this developmental age where you think Mommy is Queen of the World. I must admit, sometimes it is nice. You ask me regularly, "Mommy, do you know evee-thing?" I say no, but you seem like you don't believe me.

You have taken to following me around our entire tiny little duplex apartment saying that you want me in the same room as you. I'd like to point out, dear, that the entire apartment is like one single room. It's been really hard for me to have you attached to my side every time I look down, like a new puppy learning to heel. I frequently turn around and bump into you. I don't know what it means except that for whatever reason, you want me around a lot. I'll take it as another phase in your development and try and embrace it, because one day you will most certainly not want me to rock you in my rocking chair and sing you songs. We could do that all day if it were up to you.

You're very hilarious and what's great is you understand humor and know what will get a laugh out of me. ("Mommy, smell my butt." *giggle, giggle, giggle.) It's hard for me to understand how you are so intellectually mature yet have a hard time getting to the potty to pee in time. You love to dance and will make me put music on a few times a day so you can shake it. You come up with some great dance moves and look so free when you're prancing around the room. It feels like pure joy captured in a 3-year-old.

We all grow and mature in different ways and it has been so fun to see your brain mature in (what a proud mom thinks is) a very quick way. You have begun coming up with elaborate stories to tell your stuffed animals about girls who live in the woods and have adventures. You come up with thought-provoking questions that I can't answer like: "Mommy, where does God live?" You tell me you wish your daddy lived here with us so you could see him all the time and my heart flip-flops and then falls over exhausted.

You challenge me in so many ways. You force me to be patient when I don't want to be, assertive and consistent when I feel I lack the skills, and loving and nurturing when I sometimes just want to be alone. You hug me when I'm sick or sad and insist on that making me "feel all detter now." You get "so 'cited" to go to the park or see a friend or go to the lake that I can't help but feel that maybe I should be getting more 'cited about the simple things in life. Thank you for giving me all this and more every day. I love you more than you could ever know.

Love forever,
Your Mommy