Dear Carter

So I was staring into your crib last night and I was thinking about life and death.  And I started wondering if I'm scared to die or not.  I know I'm going to die someday; long before you, if I'm lucky.  I am not scared of death, I decided, but I am scared that I am not appreciating my life as much as I could be.  And I don't mean that I wish I accomplished everything I thought I would when I was a little girl.  This is a waste of time: I am not that person anymore.  When I say appreciating life what I mean is: If I died today, would I have played with you enough?  Will I have left enough love behind for you that you will always know you had a mother who would have done anything for you?  Should we be cuddling every second of every day?

I suspect that no matter how many hours cuddling or playing or reading to you in bed I log, it will never be enough for me.  That's the sad realization I came to last night while I was gazing at your snotty face, watching you sleep.  I did this thing.  I had you.  It's something that almost every woman will go do at some point, having a child.  But it probably feels like the same thing to them too - like they just did this incredible thing and nothing they ever do after the deed is done will ever measure up to the standards that this perfect little creature has demanded of you.  You are magical.  With you in my life, nothing I ever do could be considered a waste.  I hate to put this on you, because I know it's kind of heavy, but I live for you.  After I squeezed you out (and squeezed I did) you became the center of the world.  I would like to thank you for saving me from myself.

This blog is here, primarily, for you.  It is here so that one day - even though I will have changed and probably start lying to you the way mothers seem to end up lying to their children - you will read this blog and you will know who your mother was.  Who she really was.  Or is.  Whatever.  I have always longed to have known who my parents really are as people, and not just my parents, but that ship has sailed.  If for some reason I shouldn't be around anymore to give you everything you need, you have all of my neurotic crap to read to remind you that I love you.  That I have a sense of humour about life and also a very tragic way of relating things.

You're in your play pen.  Standing up and staring at me, and chewing on the edge of it with your 4 new top teeth.  Your nose has been running for 4 days solid and today you had zoodles, baloney and cheese for lunch.  And I am going to take you out of the play pen now, and we will go have a nap together.  Because I'll be damned if I'm going to take this precious time with you for granted.  My beautiful boy.

Dear Carter

You're almost 6 months old now!  That's half a year!  Already!
It flew by.  Somehow, together we got through it all: the first time I ever changed a diaper to being up all night to the time I fell down the stairs with you in my arms (you were fine, but it scared the shit out of you.)

I never wanted to have a baby.  But don't let that make you sad, because you're here now and without you I wouldn't be myself at all.  You really made me get to know myself a lot more.  I don't even know who that person was that didn't want to have a baby... And you made me realize that if I can keep a baby alive and happy, I can do anything in the world.  And you're such a happy guy.  Yesterday, our doctor said you're the happiest baby he knows and he isn't the first person to say that.  It must have been all the anti-depressants I was taking while you were in my uterus.  Just Kiddin!

You're teething a lot lately.  And you wake up crying a lot during the night.  And at some point I usually pick you up and bring you to bed beside me and cuddle you back to sleep.  I can't believe the supreme super powers I possess - I can make you all better just by holding you and kissing you.  Nobody else can do that like I can.  I've never been more proud of anything in all my life.  So thanks, bug.  You do just as much for me as I do for you.

Now that you're getting a little bigger we can start having a little more fun.  We can take walks down the beach, visit the zoo, play in the snow, you're going to love it.  This weekend we're going to Granny and Grandpa's trailer so you can go trick-or-treating.  You're going to be a lion, and you're going to get mommy all kinds of candy!!  You're so thoughtful.

I just want you to know that we will always have good days and bad days, but deep down inside I will always be happy because I gave life to this little person who just loves it so much already.  I already know that you're going to be a risk-taker.  You're going to wear your heart on your sleeve and you're going to be a talker.  It's strange all the things you can get to know about a person before they even know it themselves.

I love you, Mowgli.
Now finish your nap and I will see you in about 2 hours.

Love, Mum.