Mateo Leon

This task seems insurmountable, but it will only grow more so if I put it off...

I'm not going to write about Annie. Not today, not now. This miracle angel baby's story will have to wait.

Today is for Mateo. The tears that flow daily are for him, because of him, in spite of him. It happened, what everyone said does when you have a newborn...my toddler is suddenly a grown up. How did his head get so heavy? His hair so thick? When did these sentences become so complete?

Today I am thankful for him, thankful with my entire soul and being. For the way he says, "I like it?!" When he does indeed like something, or when he's asking you if he will like it.

For, "I downdt!" His own made up word that is said with such enthusiasm whenever he's in a highchair  (or otherwise confined), meaning, "done," "down," and "out" all at once.

For "Ready?!"

For his unbridled enthusiasm for EVERYTHING. His spirit is strong and unshakeable, like his strong limbs that hug me tightly and can be such a source of frustration when his will is opposed to mine (he is a toddler, after all).

How is he already two? How are those first years behind us? And yet, how is he ONLY two? How can so much heart, imagination, curiosity, determination, sweetness and craziness come about in only two years?

Nothing has baffled, surprised or amazed me more than living with 2 year-old Mateo. I understand now what it means to be a mother and love someone so much your heart feels as though it would break. As much as I love Justin and my family, this is the most intense love I've ever experienced...probably in part because it is so fleeting, this day in his life will be over before I know it, my time with him will be up and he will be gone from me. There is no promise of forever, no "til death do us part." Never again will he need me so desperately, love me so willingly, share all his smiles and tears with me. No one warns you that motherhood will be so beautifully sad.

When I was preparing for Annie's birth I focused a lot of my mental preparation on living in the moment, dealing with one contraction at a time and then shaking it off, neither lingering in the pain or anticipating the next. It is clear to me today that living in the moment is crucial to surviving motherhood; not just in dealing with its stresses and frustrations, but in allowing the fullness and richness of its love and glory to wash over me daily. To embrace the little person in front of me without regret for the bygone days of tiny  baby whimpers and smiles, and without fear of tomorrow, when he will be one day bigger, one day older.

God, help me to love him today, fully, uncompromisingly, as he is, not as I want him to be. Help me to set aside concern for anything else but him and Annie, to accept my failure to love them both as I should, to do my best and move on. Thank you for giving him to me.