my letter to my elijah

Dear Elijah,

I’ve written myself a letter before reminding me what I need to remember, but today, I need to write a letter to you. You are three and a half. And busy. And discovering your will. And still in everything amazingly wonderful.

And it’s too easy to go through the day not really seeing WHO you are and how awesome you are. {and so awesome that I am ending with a verb}  Even though you try to fence with a fork — which we don’t do, and say things that you think are funny — but really are not, and that sometimes when you are supposed to go to bed I look to see you standing at the top of the stairs — which you know you’re not to do.

Even as I write this I hear you at the table, your sweet little voice chattering away as you banter with your brothers, and I start to smile at the lovely variable you add to our family.

Elijah, you remind me to slow down and savor the day. Like yesterday when you had – just a couple books – to read. Even though your couple was close to a dozen. I’m so grateful that I decided to stop my busy work and sit with you on our old faded couch and read and listen to you. Even though we only read two of the books a dozen times.

You bless me.

I am a better mother because of you.

I have more patience, more creativity, and more laughter.

Forgive me for those days when I am just looking at me and my agenda. I lost sight of the joy and wonder that you bring to our lives. Yes, water splashing is amazing, and chalk on the carpet could be beautiful, and trying to go outside at any opportune moments is the sign of a true adventurer. We just need to figure out how to channel your unbelievable energy. And that curiosity.

Or find me some more coffee.

But no matter what — I love you.

And today I am grateful for you. I am so blessed to have you as a son.

{and please don’t play with the milk in your cereal bowl}

Love,

Mom

*****

who would you write a letter to today?