I thought a lot about that title. Big Boy. I mean, some days I’m barely able to admit you’re not my baby anymore. But then, some days I’m overwhelmed by the amazing kid you’re growing into.
This year you’ve grown into yourself in remarkable ways. Somehow the change from two to three seems monumental. I catch myself looking at your longer limbs, your stronger arms, and your growing-by-the-minute feet, and I see the boy you’re becoming. The toddler chubbiness is slowly making way for the strength of an active, strong boy.
With every leap, jump, run and hop, you grow stronger and more confident. This year you’ve gone from walking and running, to climbing and jumping through life.
And as you bound through your days, taking on each new challenge, there’s something I’ve become acutely aware of. You see, you’re my first baby. We ventured into this motherhood journey together. And while our relationship changes and grows every day, there’s one thing that remains the same. You share your firsts with me.
When you take on potty training for the first time, so do I. When you decide you want to put on your own clothes, get your own glass of water, or help set the table, I need to learn how to help you do just that. And that shift from doing to teaching is big. For both of us. You see, every new thing you learn makes me so very proud. You’re amazingly capable, and this year your independence has soared. Which pushes me to grow in new ways too, and I love you for that.
There’s no doubt you’re a big boy. You love letters, sounding out words, counting and addition (that one’s straight from your daddy). And you’re mispronouncing fewer and fewer words every day. Every time you correct yourself, I’m simultaneously proud and a little tiny bit sad that I might never hear you say ‘ambumance’ again.
So, just in case you sort out all those words tomorrow, here’s a few adorable words that you still say:
You call the ambulance an ambumance.
You call the hospital a hostible, and you’re confident that grandad works there to fix brains.
When you do something great, you ask ‘are you umpressed’?
If you drop something on the floor, you ask ‘is it breaked’?
When you get cold, you tell me that you’re going to ‘sugar’ instead of shiver.
When someone hurts themselves, you ask if you can kiss it to ‘feel it better’.
Emmett, you’re strong. You’re kind. You’re brave. You love easily. You’re smart. You’re wildly funny. You know that you’re no better than anyone else, and no one is better than you.
You turn on your ‘jets’ when you want to run extra fast… but maybe just for a little while, you could put your jets away and just crawl up on mommy’s lap for one of your world-class snuggles?
We love you the most.
xo
