Dear Son--Read This When You are A Teenager
By Molly Bice-Jackson - 9:50 PM
There is something that's been tugging at my heart lately and I want to share it with you. I want to share it with the 4 year old Peter that I absolutely adore, and the teenage Peter, whom I've yet to meet but can't wait to love.
I guess what I want you to know is that you love me. You really do! You wear me out and we butt heads at times, but you love me. Oh, and how I love you! We are the best of buddies. I get so excited when I hear the patter of your little feet in the morning. Just this morning you crawled in bed with me and gave me kisses and let me cuddle with you for a good 15 minutes.
You always want me to read to you at night and tuck you in and "sleep with you for just a little bit." You have no idea how much joy this brings me. Mommy dated a lot of boys before she married your daddy. A LOT. Every date and every kiss and cuddle was exciting and fun. But all of that, even the cuddles and kisses with daddy, pale dramatically in comparison to the pure joy and peace I experience when I am with you. (It's just different.) When you tell me you love me and that I am the best mommy ever my heart pulses in time with heaven.
Last night you gave the sweetest prayer at the dinner table. "I'm thankful for daddy and Lucy and Zoë and that I can marry Mommy."
That's right my teenage son--there was a time you wanted to marry your mother. I am your first love. (Though, you are starting to warm up to the idea of being nice to Tia. And you have mentioned marrying her a few times. Just so you know...I totally approve.)
You hold my hand, son. You want to go on dates with me. We ride bikes together nearly everyday. I play with you at the park. We build robots out of blocks and paint pots and have races down the driveway. You on your skateboard and me on foot. You kiss me before you step on the bus for preschool. You tell me I look like a princess when I get dressed for church. You delight in showing off your music skills and swimming skills during your classes. You sit on my lap and share your blankets with me and lately you laugh at me. Deep in your gut you laugh at me. For the first time ever, you told me that I'm "so funny, Mom!" And you've said it many times since when I'm talking in my crazy voices or dancing around the kitchen. You have wonderful taste, Peter.
My days with you are not easy. Your energy wears me out like nothing else I've ever experienced. But we have a beautiful and pure bond and love for each other that makes my heart sing. I want the best for you. I love you.
You won't remember these days in the ways I do. I don't remember being 4. But I'm writing this down so you will know the magic we had between us. After you've slammed that door or told me I'm fat and old and don't know what I'm talking about, or disrespected me or wondered if you want to spend much time with me...please read these words and try to feel the sweet innocence of our mother/son relationship.
I promise you loved me once. And I'll love you for always.
Thank you for being my amazing, wonderful, sweet, spunky, sassy, crazy, smart, social, brilliant, talented, darling son.
P.S. Stop fighting with your sister. The two of you adored each other when you were younger. :)