My sweet boy,
It occurred to me that I don't write to you often. I guess it's because I tend to write when I'm in the midst of figuring things out, and for the most part you and I figure things our pretty easily. Here's the trick about being a second time parent: it's a trick. You think you figure things out on the first go, but then I met you, and I realized you are your own little person who needs me to be a very different mommy. I'm learning. We're learning.
It's a good thing you are so super cute:
You are also in the midst of redefining your lines. That is a kind way of saying you have dug in your heels about some really stupid stuff and might drive me bonkers. Last night you growled at me for thirty minutes because I wouldn't let you wear three sweatshirts to bed. Growled. Literally growled. It was funny for about five minutes as I sat downstairs and listened, then it got real old real quick. Just when I thought I might really lose it, you stopped, came to me, crawled into my lap, and apologized for "being a punk." Melt my heart.
Here's the deal buddy. You are so stubborn, and in some aspects of your life that will serve you so well. Here's the flip side: where do you think you get it from? Tree Frog, I will love you forever, and when I draw a line it's because I love you and there's no crossing it. When our lines overlap, I have a feeling you and I will have many late night growl sessions. But know I will always be there to hug afterwards.
You and I, we'll figure this thing out together. I will always be your mama; thanks for teaching me how to do it.
Love you forever and always,