Bellybutton

(These are my thoughts since I noticed the sacredness of our son’s bellybutton.)

We give you baths almost every night now. Mainly to help with the breakdowns that occur because you are tired or hungry or all the things. You play with your cup and point out the letters. Then you push the button when I ask you to, to let the water run out so it doesn’t get too full. I think about children who don’t have running water. 

I ask you where your bellybutton is and you point to it. And you laugh. And I stare in amazement at the place where you used to be connected to me. You grew in here. My brain will never be able to fully grasp the sacredness of that. My soul understands it wholly. 

Your little shoes sit at the base of the stairs. Plus one pair in the bathroom from where you took a bath tonight. You have learned to take them on and off. Socks are trickier. 

You point at all the stop signs and like to say T the most. Your teacher is very worried about your speech delay. We are not. 

You laugh more at your Papa than you do me. And I get that. He is funnier. 

You give great hugs. You are learning to blow kisses. You sleep with two blankets and your blue elephant. The moose always sits at the end of your bed. 

You hate it that your pants legs are getting too short. It frustrates you completely when you can’t pull them down any further. We need to order new shoes for you, as these are also too short. 

You now say “woo-ooo, woo-ooo” when we ask you what a fire truck says. And you love to say “BAA” as loud as you can when we talk about sheep. You love it when we read to you. 

We have started Car Parenting on weekend mornings. We give you a snack and water and drive for a while so your Papa and I can drink coffee and talk, without having to say “no” approximately 600,000 times. It’s quite lovely. 

It seems that we are together all of the time. I continue to tell all my cells that we are privileged by all that we have. And it is deeply true. We are still tired. 

We don’t know many things right now. What will the Summer and Fall hold for us? When will you talk? Will you have any siblings? When will we be able to go to Florida? (Part of my heart still lives there.) Will the IRS ever send us a check? When will you learn to sleep past 7 am? 

We also know many things right now. We love each other. We have a true home. British TV is still amazing. Papa is a fantastic cook. Your laugh is one of life’s greatest gifts. This time is both painful and precious.