My little boy.
Lately I've been thinking about those first few days of your life, where you were so foreign to me yet so familiar, all bundled up in your see-through bassinet at the hospital, with your fuzzy, wild baby hair, perfect nails and stork bite over your eye.
I remember being wheeled into the hospital room, your Daddy frantic about how I was, a complete wreck over the 6 hours I was gone while he had to figure out what to do with you. I'm sure he felt completely scared and alone and worried to death, actually, I know he felt that way. I remember seeing you all bundled up in your baby blanket, and saying "Hi, baby."
You were as new to me as the moment I first saw you before you were whisked away while I spent the next 5 hours in the OR.
We didn't know what to do with you. We didn't even think about changing your diaper! We didn't even think we were the ones who had to worry about it. But after a few days, it was all just part of our life, as you were too.
Your first year of life was tough for us, but more because we were trying to figure out how you fit into the life we used to have. And then I realized we had it wrong. We had to figure out how to fit the life we used to have into YOUR life. Your life is the important life now. We're just sidelining.
It's not like I didn't know what I was getting into. I waited 33 years before I had you. I had a lot of fun and did even more growing up before you arrived. And I know that made all the difference.
Your Daddy and I have been together for a long time, and I think it was perfect that we had you when we did. For one, we got YOU. We could have gotten an Owen or Sebastian or Maia or Chloe. But I got a Mr. Mateo, the biggest joy of my life.
And now here we are, 1.5 years after your birth, and you have changed so much and so fast, I have a hard time grasping how a little defenseless baby can be a walking, talking, smiling, hugging, loving, funny as all get go little boy.
The thing I love most about you right now, at this exact point in your life? Your willingness to hug. You will hug on command, that's how great you are. And when I ask for a kiss, you turn your head so I have full access to your smooth, chubby cheek.
You're growing up so fast and turning into a (somewhat, okay, not really) independent little man. I adore you more than you'll ever know. Some day, when we show you the massive amounts of pictures and videos we've taken of you, pretty much cataloguing your life from the beginning, you will think us odd and will probably be ashamed of us and our silliness, and we really won't care. Because I need those pictures and videos and memories. I need them now, and you're still brand new to the world.
All I hope for you is happiness.
And that you go to Harvard, but we have time to work on that one.