January 5, 2017, we got the call for an emergency placement for a 4-year-old boy. The call was for you. You came to us with the clothes on your back and a shy smile on your face. I’ll never forget the roaring sound you kept making that night as you pretended to be the hulk. You still occasionally make the same sound, it instantly takes me back. Back to that tooth gap, curly headed, pale, red cheeked face.
January 9, 2017, you showed your first signs of attachment towards me. I picked you up from daycare and when you saw me your face lit up. After dinner I carried you to the bath and you rested your head on my shoulder, that was your first initiation of affection towards me.
On January 10, 2017, when I picked you up, you jumped up and down in excitement when you saw me. Your curls were cut that day and you sat perfectly still so you could get a treat afterwards. That night you referred to me as Mommy as you talked to Daddy during bath time, yes, I was listening outside the door. You weren’t ready for me to have that title and immediately asked about your old mommy. My heart broke for you as your Daddy couldn’t find the right words.
January 11, 2017, as soon as Daddy was home you didn’t want me around. You were his mini me and attached to his hip. That night during your bedtime routine you referred to me as Mommy and didn’t ask about your old mommy.
January 13, 2017, that was the first day you directly called me mommy. I was folding laundry and you couldn’t find me and you said “Mommy where are you?” Sweetest words I ever heard.
January 15, 2017, was a learning day for us newbies. Some cousins came to town to go bowling so we woke you up from your nap. Bad idea. You needed your sleep. The rest of the day you were grouchy. Lesson learned. That was your first bad haircut. Daddy meant to take just a little off the top and ended up buzzing it all over.
January 16, 2017, you yelled “Mommy!” when I picked you up from daycare. That night you hugged Daddy and told him you loved him so much.
A year later, the curls are gone, and the shy smile has been replaced with an ornery one. You have grown a size in clothes and shoes and almost two inches in height. You’re a complete Mommy’s Boy. You eat like a man and your menu items have largely expanded from the spaghetti, pizza, and hamburger list you originally admitted to.
You are unbelievably stubborn. You once bit your dad’s finger when he tried to give you medicine because you said it tasted so badly. Then you forced yourself to throw up just to prove a point. You now take medicine like a champ, but you still try the same tactics with food you claim to not like. Oh, by the way, after the finger biting incident, I just put your medicine in your sippy cup. The same goes for those capri-suns you claimed to hate and now you love.
At pre-school and daycare you were typically so well behaved with only a couple not so great days. You are in kindergarten now, and you already wish you could go back to pre-school. We get weekly reminders from your teacher about your stubbornness. I get it, pre-school was more fun, but sometimes we just have to do things we don’t want to do. I have faith that your stubbornness will be used for good. That it will enable you to stand by your beliefs even when it’s not popular and help you become a motivated leader one day. One day, but not today, please stay my little boy a little longer.
My little boy. I knew on day 2, that you’d be my son forever. There were some bumps in the road and of course we had to wait on the court to finalize it, but I knew instantly.
I hope you always feel loved. I hope you always feel wanted. I hope you always feel valuable. I hope you always feel chosen. Being your mom the last year has been the greatest adventure and I am extremely blessed to call you my son.