Completion of three – single mothers of choice
To my little man, who turned three,
The first letter like this I wrote to you while you spin one. You were trying to deal with a small child, but still firmly my baby. You learned new things every day, but I still needed me for almost everything. I had grown up to love you more than I ever expected, but some days it was exhausting. For a few days I wanted to speed up the time when you were a little more independent. A little less baby and a little more boy.
Two years ahead, and I mean flash, and you're standing on the edge of boyhood. You still need your mother a lot, but every month, every day, you learn to do one more thing without my help. You defiantly declare, "I do it myself!" If I pull where you feel I am not needed. And while I'm so proud of each new achievement, I'm also aware of that little pain you miss, that you need your hand in mine.
Next year, you'll master potty training, start preschool, swim without me in the water next to you, and probably learn to climb some new terrifying piece of playground equipment without my hands strengthening you. Because you really have become less of a baby and more of a boy. It's wonderful, but it's also a little sad. I think you feel it too.
Lately before going to bed, in the darkness of your room, tell me that you need me. "Don't leave!" I want you to snuggle – you whisper and cling to my clothes. After two years of falling asleep, you suddenly need to touch me again. Being a big boy all day is hard work and when night falls, it's good to be my baby again.
I probably have to break the habit. I need hours after bed to be productive. I want you to be a good independent dream again. I know that there is a puppy of manipulation in the puppy asking you to "stay more minutes" and I must stick firmly and say "no".
But the truth is that just as your little hands are squeezing my sleeve and pulling me close to you, I cling tightly to the baby you once were and always will be in my heart. So for a few more nights, I'll curl up next to you, rub your back, and sing you the same lullaby I sang since you were a baby in my arms.
Even if the almost three-year-old changes the lyrics these days to make it almost unpleasant. The boys are coming here.
This time, however, let's go slow
I love you forever and ever, Mom
Minus Prince Charming: https://minusprincecharming.com/2019/04/29/on-turning-three/