When you are little you rule the world, you think you can do everything and be anything. You dream big, run mini marathons and eat sugar without fear of all the terrible things it does to your insides.  Life is pure bliss and sometimes absolutely devestating (like when your stack of pillows falls down and you can’t make the perfect car out of them).  You grow up, somewhat limit yourself, it’s natural.   Then you have children (maybe, some of us) and you get to relive it all.  

You get to relive the magic of Christmas, be excited about an elf visiting from the North Pole. You get to watch the genuine bliss, fear, trepidation, sadness and excitement of your little in a matter of 25 minutes.  You build snowmans, bake cookies while teaching measurements, to be together. You teach yourself the names of dinosaurs again. You watch Frozen 7 thousand times.   You feel really dumb thinking about being smarter than a fifth grader.  

Then momma sits down and thinks about how time won’t stop and maybe you won’t be the first Rocket Scientist, Doctor, Google board member, NHL star, President of the United States, like we pretend to be each day.  Even though we know you can.  We know you will have sucky days, sad days, sick days, broken hearts over spilt chocolate milk or no pizza for breakfast or the harder to mend broken hearts of a mean kid or your “first” love (trust my heart will hurt more than yours). 

Being a mom is hard. But. So. Worth. It. 

As Evan grows up, I just hope he is happy.  Happy, healthy and knows he is worth it.  He is just the most amazing little boy and I can’t even put into words how much he amazes and challenges me.  I’m sorry I work so much honey, I wish I could be with you always.  And Michael, you too.  This morning when you only want me, me missing is the reason for your tears, my hug alone calming your racing heart. 

  
On the train, be home soon.  Love you both, to the moon.