Being Good

Dear Enzo,


Some people think that humans are born bad.  That they are selfish and evil and have to be taught to be good.  But I have never thought that was true.  And now that I have met you I know that isn't true.  Because, despite having two imperfect, often selfish, and decidedly flawed parents you are an astoundingly kind boy.  In fact, I can learn a lot about how Jesus wants us to relate to others by watching you.

•  You don't need attention all the time,  you are content to play by yourself and when someone gets down on the floor to play with you are beside yourself with joy. "oh my goodness, you want to play too?!  this is the best day of my life!" 
• Whenever we walk into a room you try to make eye contact with everyone in there, and if they look back at you they are rewarded with your 100 watt smile.  Everyone who meets you thinks you love them the best.
• You almost never cry without reason. Sometimes you are hungry and sometimes you are tired, and sometimes you are simply bored with your surroundings and would please like someone to help you move so you can get a better view. As soon as your needs are met you stop. 
• You always choose happy over sad or upset.  You try to smile even when you are exhausted and starving and you feel like you are at the end of your rope.  I have seen you flash a huge grin at someone you love, while simultaneously sobbing your heart out, and it is the most heartbreaking thing to see.  I spill my coffee in the morning and everyone pays for it the rest of the day because I am suddenly in a 'bad mood', but you, my sweet boy, can be hours overdue for nap and fall into a puddle of tears, but still giggle when I blow a raspberry on your stomach. 
• You never hold a grudge.  
• You approach each new day with curiosity and enthusiasm.  Your crazy happy face at 5:30am inspires me to get up and start my day, even though I inwardly groan and wonder how your father and I created such a complete morning person.

Enzo's philosophy on life:  Pay attention to people and make them feel special.  Choose happiness and joy over sadness or anger. Start fresh every day and prepare yourself for an exciting adventure. 

    I vow to try to be more like you, my sweet boy.


                                        Love,
                                       Momma.

Bath Time

Dear Enzo,


My favorite time of day is bath time.  


You love your bath more than anything and I love to watch you enjoy yourself so thoroughly.   We bought a blue bucket that fits you and your three small bath toys perfectly.  You happily splash around, drinking and choking on the water, stopping occasionally to look at me to make sure I am still watching you.  You spend most of your bath time trying to get your bath toys into your mouth,  with limited success.   You stand up, sit down, stand up, sit down, sometimes getting yourself wedged into the tub sideways. Tonight you discovered the delightful sound the shower curtain makes when your crinkle it.  But then you tried to put the curtain in your mouth, and despite working at it for several minutes you just couldn't succeed, and you finally got frustrated and bath time was over.


I think this is one of the most surprising things about motherhood, how fascinated I have become with everything that you are.  I will read Peek a Who to you over and over because you love it. I will lay and the floor and watch you roll over for as long as you want because you are so clearly proud of yourself every time you do.  I will rock and nurse you as long as it takes for you to fall asleep, because you sleep best when you fall asleep in my lap.  Your life has become my life, and you are not even 6 months old!  Imagine how it will be when you start loving soccer, or playing the guitar, or whatever talents and interests lie in that tiny head of yours.  I used to be critical of mothers who allowed their kids' interests to take over their lives, but now I understand - its not that your interests have taken over my life, it is that you have taken over my life.   

Letters from Momma

Dear Enzo,


When I was pregnant with you I read a book by Anne Lamott about her son's first year.  It was full of pithy anecdotes and pointed observations, and beautiful language and I was inspired.  I vowed to keep a journal of your first year.  Then, when on a trip to Seattle, I found a fantastic little book called the "first 1000 days" and I vowed to write down everything you did in your first two years.  But then, when you were born, I got lost in a fog of sleeplessness and wonder and forgot all about my promise.  When remembered my vow and purchased a journal and tried to write I found that words escaped me.  How did Anne Lamott so poignantly capture her thoughts and impressions of that first year?  Every day has been a new adventure with you and I can't begin to wrap my arms around it.


Then, last week I read a book by Donald Miller called A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, about how your life is a story and we have to choose what story we want to live and the author told about a friend of his who writes down all his memories so he won't forget anything.  Later that night you were nursing before bed you put your tiny hand in mine and I looked down at your chubby, tapered fingers and realized I was going to forget that moment.  That I was already forgetting what you were like when we brought you home from the hospital.  How you were so tiny I was afraid I would lose you, but you could yell so loud I knew I never would.  And I decided to get off the couch and write down my memories of you.  


So here are my letters to you, my son.  They won't be as beautiful as Anne Lamott or as smart as Don Miller but they will at least be ours. 

Love, Momma