Today you are hitting a milestone….TWO! I remember 10-10-10, two years ago. A gorgeous day in West Sonoma County, the heart of wine country, vineyards turning shades of fall, pumpkins nestled into doorways, a chill in the morning air, baseball playoffs taking over the airwaves, decaf soy lattes from the Union Hotel Cafe. An afternoon spent relaxing in a park, letting your older brother blow off some steam and energy while the rest of us, mainly me, tried to keep out of the way of the big belly (that’s you, pictured above, under my black shirt!).
As I mentioned last year, you took your sweet time, waiting five days after your due date to arrive. On 10-10-10, we caught the end of the Mad Men season finale before jetting off to Kaiser through the windy roads of Occidental around 9:45pm. The details of that day and night are fairly vivid in my mind, which is a miracle considering the fog parenthood has permanently bestowed on my life, but some of the minutiae doesn’t seem quite so important. I remember with your birth in the wee hours of Monday, October 11th, and Alex’s back in May of 2007, feeling an unsaid pressure to bond immediately. To know, beyond a doubt, that you two would be soul mates, that we were MEANT TO BE. Linked at the hip, or the umbilical chord! In that moment, when you slid out, I started crying. Labor and delivery is one big ball of emotions for most. For me, it was a feeling of relief to be done with the pain of childbirth. But also, a sad letting go of the closeness of pregnancy. It was joyful crying at finally meeting the “missing link” in our family, while simultaneously wondering, “HOW IN THE WORLD DO I PARENT TWO BOYS?!?!”
Over the last two years, though, you have taught me, whether on purpose or not, to take it a day at a time. Worrying about childproofing the house and you gaining mobility as a one-day old infant really wasn’t necessary. Thinking through the pros and cons of you and Alex sharing a room down the road? Not an urgent decision needing to be made. Hoping you would be a strong reader and compassionate friend? Well, you get it. Mom is a worrier. Mama is a planner. MOMMMEEE is a controller. And sometimes, Drew, you have been my best teacher and counselor. Your natural YOU-ness continually reminds me that these moments of worry, feverish planning and controlling are rather pointless.
The days that you and I have together, just the two of us, without Daddy and your brother, are forceful reminders that today is just that….TODAY. I can’t try and get my “to do” list done anymore. That’s not due to guilt, but due to the facts. Even though you are independent, willing to spend a 1/2 an hour doing puzzles, building trains or “reading” books, you seek to engage. You continually explore (a nice way to say “GET INTO EVERYTHING!”). Drew, you approach life as an observer, an encourager and cheerleader, showing in your own way that you value people, physical connection and community. You love “MARKERS!!!!!” and choo-choo trains. And best of all?!? Getting behind closed doors, into your brother’s LEGO collection!
I get a bit nostalgic and my pulse quickens as I sort and purge your closet and drawers, pulling out everything under the size “2T”. I see bins of clothes to come, but instead of separating sizes by months, it has become years. I know you are growing up. You are communicating. You are ready to start in your new room at the preschool, filled with science, art, circle time and no naps. I can see you in the starting blocks—-you are ready, Bud. We know you will run into this next phase, charging the adventures ahead, cheeks jiggling as you jet away. Just keep coming back for those “reassuring” hugs and snuggles. Dad and I can’t quite bear the thought of those moments disappaiting yet. And know that medals won or records made and broken, we count it a joy and privilege to be your family.
Love you, Drewske.