I know that I love you. I tell you this everyday in private. In quiet. When it’s just us. I whisper I love you into your small, little ears when you are about to run off somewhere or before I lay you into your crib or when you are throwing your head back in unadulterated laughter. I tell you. But I don’t say it enough in public. To the world. To anyone that will listen. So here is my public announcement that I do. That I love you to the moon and back and then back again and then to a different space of the galaxy and back again a million times.
I know that I try hard everyday to be a good mom. That even though cooking without your help is much easier and way faster, cooking with me makes you happy. So I’m happy. That even though carrying you has thrown my back out of whack in 4 different places and that my back works like an aging 82-year-old I secretly like sleeping you in my arms so I could look at your dashingly handsome face and breath in your baby man smell while you dream.
I know that my love for you is so immense that even when you use my lipstick to paint my bedspread or use my stomach as a landing pad, or scream bloody murder for no reason at all that I love you. That there is nothing you can ever do that will ever change that.
I know that my heart feels bad every time I can’t give you what you want. I know it makes you sad. I’m sorry for that. But know that my heart is equally as sad because my feelings are bound to yours. I will never be able to give you everything you want. But I will try to give you everything I can.
I know that I secretly can’t wait for you to crawl into bed with us so that I could snuggle your little bodies and hold you tight in my arms and nestle my face in your baby curls. And you will always be allowed in.
I know that I want to fiercely protect you from every evil thing that you might encounter in life – that I won’t be able to – but that I will try to. Don’t get mad at me for being overbearing. That’s what mama bears do to protect their cubs.
I know that your flirty smile works wonders. It fills up the room. It melts hearts. It evokes happiness. Your laugh does the same. It’s contagious and perfect and warming. I wish I could keep it stored away in one of those old ballerina jewelry boxes so that I could wind it up and listen to it over and over again.
You should know that you are what is beautiful in this world and seeing everything through your eyes makes it even more beautiful to me.
I know that there is a moment in every day when I look at you and think how perfect you are: how strong, how smart, how sweet, how funny, how innocent, how lovely, how kind, how everything you are.
And I only hope that one day you know these things too.
Mami vs. the Klingons
Mix Tape: The Evolution of a Wedding Song
I'm not rushing Christmas, really. No, really, I'm not. I'm one of this Christmas fanatics that counts down the days til next Christmas starting the day after Christmas.Only 364 more...
Connecting the Dots of a Bilingual Prayer
Our bedtime routine is the same every evening: baño, leche, libro (bath, bottle, book). And then prayers. My Cuban grandmother always referred to God as Papa Dios. So, Papa Dios...
I know that I love you. I tell you this everyday in private. In quiet. When it’s just us. I whisper I love you into your small, little ears when you are about to run off somewhere or before I lay you into your crib or when you are throwing your head back in unadulterated laughter. I tell you. But I don’t say it enough in public. To the world. To anyone that will listen. So here is my public announcement that I do. That I love you to the moon and back and then back again and then to a different space of the galaxy and back again a million times.
I know that I try hard everyday to be a good mom. That even though cooking without your help is much easier and way faster, cooking with me makes you happy. So I’m happy. That even though carrying you has thrown my back out of whack in 4 different places and that my back works like an aging 82-year-old I secretly like sleeping you in my arms so I could look at your dashingly handsome face and breath in your baby man smell while you dream.
I know that my love for you is so immense that even when you use my lipstick to paint my bedspread or use my stomach as a landing pad, or scream bloody murder for no reason at all that I love you. That there is nothing you can ever do that will ever change that.
I know that my heart feels bad every time I can’t give you what you want. I know it makes you sad. I’m sorry for that. But know that my heart is equally as sad because my feelings are bound to yours. I will never be able to give you everything you want. But I will try to give you everything I can.
I know that I secretly can’t wait for yo
u to crawl into bed with us so that I could snuggle your little bodies and hold you tight in my arms and nestle my face in your baby curls. And you will always be allowed in.
I know that I want to fiercely protect you from every evil thing that you might encounter in life – that I won’t be able to – but that I will try to. Don’t get mad at me for being overbearing. That’s what mama bears do to protect their cubs.
I know that your flirty smile works wonders. It fills up the room. It melts hearts. It evokes happiness. Your laugh does the same. It’s contagious and perfect and warming. I wish I could keep it stored away in one of those old ballerina jewelry boxes so that I could wind it up and listen to it over and over again.
You should know that you are what is beautiful in this world and seeing everything through your eyes makes it even more beautiful to me.
I know that there is a moment in every day when I look at you and think how perfect you are: how strong, how smart, how sweet, how funny, how innocent, how lovely, how kind, how everything you are.
And I only hope that one day you know these things too.
Mami vs. the Klingons
Mix Tape: The Evolution of a Wedding Song
I'm not rushing Christmas, really. No, really, I'm not. I'm one of this Christmas fanatics that counts down the days til next Christmas starting the day after Christmas.Only 364 more...
Connecting the Dots of a Bilingual Prayer
Our bedtime routine is the same every evening: baño, leche, libro (bath, bottle, book). And then prayers. My Cuban grandmother always referred to God as Papa Dios. So, Papa Dios...