The Final Weeks of My Only.

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I'm just really proud of the person he's become.

Yes, he disobeys and throws massive tantrums. And he does those things in public when it embarrasses me, sure.

But mostly, he is this sweet, funny, sensitive, polite, extremely observant person who makes me really really proud. He notices when the moon is in the sky (during the day!), even when I'm certain it's not out. He says please and thank you, and even though he mixes up when he's supposed to say "Yes ma'am" and "Yes sir", he still tries and it just makes my heart smile. He is a show off, which I can't fault him for, because I was the exact same way. "Watch me, Mom!", he shouts at the top of his lungs. All day long. So much shouting. But it works out pretty well because that's what I want to do - I want to watch him and marvel at the stunning person he is. The funny person he is. The smart person he is.

I have another baby coming soon. Soon I won't be able to tell my little son that he's my favorite boy in the whole wide world. Soon I won't be able to just sit endlessly in his bedroom with my morning coffee and watch him almost break the crib with his feats of jumping. Soon I will be a heart divided, a mind unfolded in full-blown multitasking, an attention that sways with the alternating needs of two boys.

And that day is nearing, all the time it's nearing closer.

It's alarming to think about my heart opening up to another little person in the same way that it has with Everett. Because he made me the mom that I am. He made me love motherhood. He made me fall in love with myself in a new way. He made me believe in a capability that I wasn't prepared for - he made me follow my instincts, discover an awakening of my mothering nature, and grow as fast and mightily as him because, well, I didn't have a choice. As a mom, you have to be all in. This role is the greatest thing I've ever done, but if you had told me that prior to this precious boy, I couldn't have believed you. Because I had other things to do, and frankly, because mini vans really turn me off.

Did I mention Stevie really wants to get us one?

I am processing these thoughts this morning, because they need to be processed. I imagine that every mother goes through this phase when they are expecting another little one, but it feels unprecedented when it's happening to you. I am pursuing time and engagement with my toddler son right now, because soon everything will change and I want him to know, how very desperately, that I want him to feel my love and appreciation for who he is. I love and hate how big he's getting. My baby, my big boy.

P.S. - Thanks to Rocco + Norah for sending us my turban and his beanie for the changing weather of the season - I have been wearing mine every third day for weeks. You know what happens on the third day? Dirty hair. :)

Outfit Details:
Mine:
ASOS Cold Shoulder Top, Gap Maternity Jeans, Forever 21 Kimono, Rocco + Norah Mama Turban in Napa (c/o)
His:
Rocco + Norah Reversible Palm Springs Beanie (c/o)
 

The Motherload.

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I woke up on Mother's Day with a bad attitude.

I just had a bad attitude. Just because. I don't really, actually know why. Well I do, but it was like a million little mundane things that were making me crazed. Nothing of real substance. And I just about chewed Stevie's head off before I even rose from the bed, and as soon as the flurry of emotional words escaped my lips, I wished I could scoop them out of the air and cup them back into my mouth, swallowing their poisonous power.

But I couldn't.

That's the thing about words - they are absolutely forever. I have learned to bite my tongue over the years, holding back my venom when it won't serve a positive purpose (because really, when does venom serve a positive purpose??) Sometimes I fall short, though, and resort to my childhood, childish ways. I have quite a knack for hurting with my words. I'm good at it. And I hate that I'm good at it.

Stevie and I reconciled, dealt with the reasons why I was feeling frustrated about, you know, everything, but my outburst had me thinking the rest of the day about my immature behavior.

Happy Mother's Day to me. Womp womp.

Being a mom has illuminated so many truths. But this thing of attitude affecting action - it's something that I watch my son emulate every day. My words are so powerful in his little life. And based on what I say, and therefore do, is exactly what that little guy will say and do. For example, when he burps, he says, "Excuse you!", because he's heard me say it to him so often. He doesn't say, "Excuse me", he says "excuse you". Because that's what he heard me say. It's kind of funny, but it's also really interesting. My words remain with him - the big and the very small.

Being Everett's mom (and Stevie's wife!) has taught me so much about the flaws in my character, the places where I am below measure in grace, patience, and selflessness. But days like Mother's Day really puts it in perspective for me - it raises the questions. What am I building in my family? What kind of mother do I want to be remembered as? One with a sharp, critical tongue? Or one with a calm, generous, listening heart. ( <-- that one.) One who doesn't jump to conclusions. One who loves loves loves and then loves some more. And then even more.

And then MORE.

My little boy is getting unbelievably big. He is smothered by my love, but I wonder what else he is soaking up by spending time with me. Those little behaviors that I don't realize I say or do, that he is keenly aware of and emulating day by day. Because even though he looks like a little Stevie Mini-Me (I know, I know), he actually talks and acts a lot like me. I hope that I'm doing a good job with him, helping mold him into the best version of himself. (This isn't a self-deprecating thing, I know he is learning positive things from me.) But what I mean is the little things, the ones that could slip through the cracks in case I catch them and fix them. I hope that next Mother's Day, I can say with some confidence that I've grown up a little bit and learned to keep my cool and extend my heart a bit more kindly. To all the boys in my life. It's such an honor to be Everett's mom. I am the luckiest.

I hope your Mother's Day was restful and fun and full of love and celebration. Ours was wonderful (after my wrong side of the bed wake up call), and we spent time lounging around my parents pool and eating take out. No clean up! Thanks to my sis Rachel for taking pictures. Much love to all of you :)

P.S. - My thoughts about my glorious mom last year on Mother's Day and the year before, too.