an open letter to my child
Dear baby staring lovingly into my eyes as I nurse you,
Thank you.
Thank you for eating what I feed you.
Thank you for not only taking the milk I give you, but APPRECIATING IT. Thank you for not asking, when I present you with my breast, that the liquid be given to you in a container of a different color, the container of your FAVORITE color, and therefore ONLY OKAY color at this moment. Thank you for not asking that the milk be warmed up in the microwave to a slightly different temperature. Or warmed up in the microwave to the SAME temperature, but AGAIN because you only wanted to hear ONE BEEP, and why did I let it beep three times like some kind of hearing-less monster?
Thank you for not being two.
Thank you that when you're hungry you cry just one cry, and it only means one thing, and that thing is milk. Thank you that you cry instead of saying, "What are my options for cheeses?" like this is some kind of friggin restaurant, and then screaming "I DON'T LIKE THOSE OPTIONS!" like you're the New York Times food critic.
Thank you for not being four.
Thank you sweet nursing baby that for the time being you don't have control over your arms and legs, that you only have a tiny amount of intellectual processing, so that when you flail you aren't trying to hit me on purpose, and when you spit up at me it's only a stomach problem and not something that needs carefully considered consequences.
Thank you that for now, when you stare into my eyes, I can imagine that you love me, that we are one unit, even though you will soon grow up into your own little person with strong opinions about taste and texture and the level of service in this establishment.
Oh goodness, you're throwing up all over us, aren't you? Well, let's get you cleaned up again. At least you don't think this entitles you to watch a show....
Love,
Mama
comments
oh.my.word. I'm laughing, but also feeling like you need a hug, and some chocolate. :)