Dear North,
I guess I'm supposed to do a recap of your last year since this letter is representing your milestone birthday of two years. To be honest, I can't remember much beyond what has happened in the last month. Anything beyond that is snapshots in my head of a very different person than the little guy you currently are. I can barely remember a time when you couldn't walk. Now that you're talking more, the months you spent whimpering and pointing to communicate are foggy. To take it back to the very beginning when the nurse plopped a tiny six pound you on my belly is almost inconceivable.
I remember those early days were exhausting, blissful, hilarious, frustrating and the best of my life. I wouldn't call them hard exactly, but this motherhood gig has made me dig deeper than any other challenge I've faced to date. I hear other moms say they are the best mom they can be. But I have to be honest and admit that there are times when I know I could be better. I could be more patient. I could be more selfless. I could try harder. I know that you will push me to be better. I just want you to know that as you are growing and learning, so am I.
None of this is to say that I'm not proud of the job we are doing with you. I am quite proud and hope that a tiny bit of your awesomeness is a result of our efforts. Mostly though, you were simply born that way. You are a fantastic weirdo, which is all we could have ever hoped for. I hope that you never lose those qualities that make you so special, especially if it's to appease other people. Having you around gives me permission to be silly again and stop taking myself so seriously. You make me take a step back and appreciate the wonderful life we are all blessed to share, even if some days are better than others. So thanks to you little man for giving me a daily dose of perspective on how to make my time left on this great Earth of ours a pleasure.
Now on to you, my silly bean.
