Thinking back on Three — A letter to Andrew

I often have bittersweet feelings as you and Syliva have birthdays.  How can Sylvia be 16 months old?  How is it that you my sweet boy are only going to be three for fifteen more minutes?  (It’s almost midnight as I write.)

I loved Three.  Andrew, you were such a sweet and generous and imaginative and snugly Three.  My dear boy, here are a few things I’ll remember from this year.  You can read this list sometime when you’re older.

• Long games of animals. Hibernating together, hunting together, learning to fly, hatching, turning into butterflies, finding berries.  Andrew, you have an amazing imagination, and I’ve so enjoyed spending long hours exploring the worlds you create.
• Number and letter explosions. The second half of this year, Andrew, you just fell in love with writing.  You’re so inquisitive and meticulous, and you have an unbelievable attention span.  Longer than mine!  I loved watching you copy the names of animals or spices or people onto the chalk board.  It’s fun to watch you grow and eagerly learn.  When you learn how to read, you are going to love it!
• Trike-ing, skipping, sledding, and splashing to preschool. Andrew, you so enjoyed going to Monona Grove Nursery School.  You felt right at home there, and you adored your teachers (the feeling was mutual).  It’s a wonderful feeling to see your child in an environment where they can really play and learn and grow all on their own.  What a lovely introduction to school.  You conduct yourself in ways that really make me feel proud of you.
• Climbing, running, swinging. We spent a lot of time outdoors this past year.  I’ve loved being home with you and Sylvia full-time.  When the weather is fair (and sometimes even when it’s not), we spend much of the day out-of-doors.  Andrew, you have become such a tree-climber in the last year.  I really enjoy watching how confident you are in your body-awareness, and I’m impressed with your strength and agility.  You’re brave.  And you’re smart too, which makes me trust you.  I wonder what physical feats the next year will hold!
• Making your sister laugh. In the last year, you and Sylvia have developed and ever-deepening relationship.  I think my favorite sound in the whole wide world is the sound of you and your sister giggling together.  Sylvie delights in you, Andrew.  For her, you are the center of all that is fun.  The way you look out for her and are concerned about her welfare is amazing.  Sure, you sometimes knock her over, but more often than that, you bring her something to make her happy.  I’m so grateful for the kind and generous person you are, my sweet boy.

I’m sure there are dozens of other points I could put in this list, but my clock now says 12:02.  You’re Four!  And Andrew, the thing I hold dearest is the completeness of the bond you and I share.  We’re connected, Andrew.  You curl up in my lap or climb in bed in the morning.  I love the smell of you.  I love to nuzzle your curls and hold your little (but not so little) hand in mine.  I love the way you reach for me, the way you want to be carried when you’re sleepy.  When you get hurt, you want me to make it better.  You bring me flowers (oh, and worms too) with such joy.

I know you’re going to grow up, and I’m so excited to see what you do and to experience four, five, six and on and on.  But it does break my heart just a little to see my baby boy leave his babyhood behind.  We’re leaving sweet memories in our wake, and I’m glad for that.  I just want to bottle the size of you, the smell of you, the innocence and playfulness and sweetness of you.

If I live to be 90, I’ll want to pull out that bottle of three-year-old Andrew so I can recapture one of the purest experiences in my life — being your mommy.

OK, now I’ll dry my tears and go to bed so tomorrow morning I can celebrate with you.  Baby, you’re Four!