Dear BamBam,
You are six years old now. When I look back at your toddler pictures, I can’t believe how different you look. That skinny little one all chubby and grown. Some years we can see subtle changes when we line up your photos, but this year you almost look like a different girl. Your baby teeth are almost all gone; your face is looking more grown-up. But your insides are changing, too. Our relationship is evolving, and not always in the most comfortable ways.
Sometimes it is hard to be your mother.
But it’s not because I don’t love you. It’s because you are so much like me. I am so proud when I see the qualities I cherish in myself shining through you; I love that you enjoy reading, I am so proud when I hear you sing especially song that you composed spontaneously and it is so gratifying to read your creative writing. I love how compassionate you are, and your natural gift of empathy is clear to anyone who spends time with you. You are self-aware, and you are tuned into the emotional climate and responses of others. It is a gift.
There are days I simply thank God for giving you to me. Your wit, impeccable command of your verbal communication and your budding fashion prowess are stuff I blush at when I consider you are mine.
You and I- we learned together. You are still teaching me. Perhaps the first-born gets the worst deal, and certainly being a carbon copy of your mother adds to the challenge.
No matter how upset I get when you unknowingly hold up a mirror and reflect some of my least flattering attributes, no matter how annoyed I get when your sensitive temperament derails an otherwise smooth day, please know that I understand you. At your deepest, darkest part– a place you may not even be aware of yet– I know you. I see you. I will try to be a better navigator for this disposition you and I share.
And please remember- you and I are two of a kind. You will always be my first child; it was you who showed me how far my heart could stretch.
When you were much younger and could barely talk, I used to take your hand and press it to my heart, and place my own hand on your heart, repeating the words, “I love you- no matter what.” On the days when you question whether that is true, let me repeat it again once more- I love you. No matter what.
When you were much younger and could barely talk, I used to take your hand and press it to my heart, and place my own hand on your heart, repeating the words, “I love you- no matter what.” On the days when you question whether that is true, let me repeat it again once more- I love you. No matter what.
Happy birthday Amoke!
