My sweet firstborn child…
You about broke my heart last night.
We had a disagreement. I made a suggestion for bedtime that you found particulary offensive. You were rude. I got mad.
There were tears. There was yelling.
And then you went to bed.
When I came in to go through our regular routine (talk about our day, sing a song, etc) you stayed under the covers. I sang anyway. I had a conversation with Piglet as to why you wouldn’t talk to me. I said I love you and I left.
Fifteen minutes later, you shuffled downstairs and popped up next to my computer.
“Mom? Can you come back upstairs?”
And then the dam broke and you started sobbing. (You were oh so very tired.)
We talked about how only you can control your actions. We talked about counting to ten before we speak when we know we’re angry. We talked about how absolutely everyone gets mad sometimes and reacts inappropriately. We talked about how actions have consequences.
Then it happened.
“But how can you love me when you’re so mad at me?” More tears. You gasped for air.
My sweet, sweet baby boy. It doesn’t matter how mad I am at you. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done. It doesn’t matter what you do.
I will always love you.
I prayed for you. You grew in my body. You are a part of me.
No matter how loud I yell, no matter how mean my face looks…nothing will change the love I have for you. NOTHING.
I took your hand and led you back upstairs. You sniffed, tears threatening to spill again.
I held your face in my hands, and looked deep into your eyes. “You are my whole heart, my son. Don’t ever doubt my love for it will always be there.”