Dear Tyler

Long ago you came to me, a miracle of firsts:
First smiles and teeth and baby steps, a sunbeam on the burst.
But one day you will move away
and leave me to your past,
and I will be left thinking of a lifetime of your lasts.

I never said good-bye to all
your yesterdays long passed.
So what about tomorrow-
will I recognize your lasts?

I look ahead and dream of days
that haven't come to pass.
But as I do, I sometimes miss
today's sweet, precious lasts....

My life keeps moving faster,
stealing precious days that pass.
I want to hold on longer-
want to recognize your lasts....

I've watched you grow and barely noticed
seasons as the pass.
If I could freeze the hands of time,
I'd hold on to your lasts.

Let me hold on longer, God,
to every precious last.

Excerpt from Let Me Hold you Longer, by Karen Kingsbury

Photo of the Day 2

I keep a large glass jar on my desk that I fill with notes about Tyler.

There are notes about things that have happened to him...like his elbow being pulled out of his socket

There are notes about reaching milestones...like finally saying "mama"

There are notes about funny things that Tyler says or does...like how he started to lick his finger to turn the pages in a book

There are notes about everyday life...things I never want to forget, but know will work their way deep into my memory and will someday be hard to recall.

There is something, too, about a handwritten note. I hope that after I am gone Tyler and his family will enjoy reading about him as a child, will catch a glimpse of him through my eyes from little notes written by hand.

patience in bloom

when tyler was about 4 or 5 months old, i was walking into the daycare center, in a hurry like always, and found myself annoyed to be stuck behind another mom who was letting her toddler walk to their room. i remember thinking that she should just pick him up so they could get moving and that i would never have the patience for that.

the other day, tyler and i were leaving daycare and he wanted to walk. as we were slowly making our way down the driveway to our car, a woman ran by and smiled at us making our slow descent. it dawned on me at that moment that i was the woman with a slow toddler taking our time...somewhere between 5 months old and 20 months old i realized that life goes fast enough without me hurrying it along. the most important lesson i have learned as a mother is to live in the moment, the next phase comes soon enough.

dear tyler

dear tyler-

there are many, many things i love about you, here are a few of my favorites today:

you say "uh oh" whenever you (or anyone) drops something

you smack your lips and say "ahhh" everytime you take a drink

you still love to cuddle and nuzzle close when you are sleepy

your love affair/obsession with papa

how you dance anytime you hear any kind of music, especially bopping your head in the car (Night at the Roxbury anyone?)

you say "hi" when you see a phone

wearing everyone elses shoes around the house

going potty in your potty chair, but refusing to sit while you do so

love, mom