Aug 16, 2009
He is my beautiful.
Our sweetheart Wilder turns one in T minus three days. Three days. Pray for me.
Sometimes my mom answers the phone, "Well, hi, baby girl." I noticed it tonight. Because I get it. I get her.
After Wilder has left the safe cocoon of the home we've built for him, I'll ache to hear his voice. To want to know he's okay. I'll say, "hi, Beautiful."
But you've got time, Mindy! Yes I know and am grateful for that, but if the first year has gone by this fast, tell me what am I to do about the next 17? I have a few ideas: not stress out, kiss him alot, tell him he's special, let the dishes go, play in the dirt, hold slimy things, do multiplication tables and volcano projects, show him the world.
The world may never be ready for him, but we'll get him ready for it.
And though my arms will always be held out wide for him, they cannot extend as far as he must, and deserves, to dream.
Someday, he will go.