Three years and some change...

 I've done it again... I started looking back at old pictures and videos and felt my heart slowly move up into my throat and I felt the tears well up in my eyes. How can it be that you are three? Three years old? That seems completely impossible! I remember when we brought you home. I remember everything about that day. I remember how scared I was that I wasn't doing everything right (that has yet to go away, by the way) and I remember how much I loved sitting you on my lap and talking to you. You quickly became my most favorite thing in the world. My most cherished little person. The person that made me... Me.

Now I look at you and see so much more. I see your father, first of all. It's taken me three years, but I'm beginning to believe and recognize what everyone says... you look just like him. I'm also beginning to see me. You're so much like me. You are friendly and outgoing. You love to be "doing" something. You love to read books and chat and sing songs and dance and be silly. You've also acquired some of my not-so-fabulous attributes as well and this makes me NERVOUS. You're emotional and dramatic and stubborn and quite sensitive. Now, these traits I'm usually able to keep in check (I am in my (eek!) thirties, after all), but these fabulous personalities are quite tricky for you to manage, which is putting a damper on our relationship these days. You see, we have a tendency to "butt heads". We fight a lot and this is killing me! I miss us... And, I blame myself for it all...

I try to remind myself that you ARE 3 years old, after all. And everyone tells us that 3 is tricky. The hardest, really. You seem to be having some sort of identity crisis, which makes sense. You're stuck in between baby and big boy.

But, you've had a lot happen in your little life this past year... And, I blame myself for it all...

Before we had Jayce, you were my everything. My whole world. When Jayce was born, you were 23 months old. I look back at pictures and you looked like a baby. All siblings struggle with a new baby, of course, but your situation was different. In the beginning of Jayce's life, it wasn't just getting use to a new brother. No. It was so much more.

Our new baby was sick and too small to come home. You were passed between grandparents just so that we could juggle NICU visits. You never experienced meeting your brother for the first time while sitting on your Mommy's lap like most big brothers do. You met him when he was two weeks old, through a plastic incubator.

 

When he came home, it wasn't a joyous occasion filled with presents and smiles and snuggle time... we tried, but it just wasn't that. Jayce had appointments and follow-ups, which meant more time with grandparents for you (not like you weren't completely spoiled, but it was not what we had planned). And I blame myself for it all...

Those first few months as a family of four were not what we had expected. OK, not what I expected for us. For you. And with everything that we went through, I have to remind myself that you were here too. Will I ever forgive myself for that?

On top of all of Jayce's medical issues and therapies, Jayce had colic. Real. Life. Colic. I never knew what it was, or if it was real... IT IS. Every night from 4:00-8:00 he cried. For 5 straight months. Jayce had colic and I had post-partum depression. Real. Life. Post-Partum Depression. I never knew what it was, or if it was real... IT IS. So every night from 4:00-8:00 I would cry too (and usually WAY more than that). I tried to shield this all from you, but after weeks and weeks, it was impossible. You would come in the bedroom while Jayce screamed and tears rolled down my face and put your sweet hand on my leg. I would touch your face and tell you to find a book and tell you that I loved you. You never threw a tantrum or wanted attention. You would just kiss Jayce's face and leave.

Will I ever forgive myself for that?

I will spare you the details of the rest of that because I hope that you will never remember all that occurred in our home those first few months because I'm trying to forgive myself, but it was bad. It was hard. It was like I was walking around with my eyes closed, just trying to keep going. I did this for YOU and for you alone. You were the glue that kept me together. You were the reason I fought for each day. I would not let YOU down.

The months went by... Colic became a horrible word of the past and the depression, well, it became something that I owned and managed and controlled. And you helped me!

Your brother got older and stronger and more determined. You and he formed a bond almost instantly that became the inspiration for me to get it together. You loved him from day one. You never saw a disability or a problem. You never feared the unknown or the inevitable. You loved him and he annoyed you and he made you proud and he got you mad from time to time. You encouraged me to live.

With everything that our family went through during Jayce's beginning, you were here and I have to remember that. I didn't see any regression in the beginning, but I'm afraid I'm seeing it now. This may be typical too. After all, you didn't have any time to regress back then. Did you know I wouldn't be able to live through it? Possibly.

So, when things are rough between the two of us, I try to remind myself all that you've been through. I try to recognize that maybe now is your time. To feel frustrated. To feel overwhelmed. To feel sad. To feel like you don't have the words to express how you're feeling. To get mad when everyone comes over to play with Jayce and not you (a therapist is really just a super fun grown-up to you).

So... I'm working on it. I'm trying to be patient and understanding (not easy). I'm trying to give you clear boundaries and expectations. I'm trying to let the little things slide... I'm trying to let the potty-training-techniques that I research into the wee hours of the morning go. You don't have control over much right now, but I promise you, I will not tell you when and where you can poop. I will let you have the power over that. Go on with your bad self, kid. Own it! If I tell you to go on the potty, you can tell me to stick it. (I'm just really hoping that this method may work on you, like perhaps you'll be inspired to do it on your own, like sometime soon. Soon? Please.)

I guess this letter was an apology. A confession. To let you know that I haven't forgotten you. That you are still my everything and to remind you that I'm still scared that I'm doing everything that I possibly could, wrong. Being a Mommy is tough, but I will keep working on it!

Ok...

Well, I feel like I should've written about your third birthday, but your birthday was a bit different this year (again, I feel horrible about this).

We planned your birthday party for Saturday, March 23. We were all set ~ it would be Monster Truck themed, of course. We had our Monster Truck cupcake tier, napkins and plates, streamers & balloon color schemes picked out and cupcake sprinkles bought (you couldn't choose a favorite, so we decided to buy EVERY colored sprinkle that was ever made!). The invites were sent...

However, your party was cancelled when we heard that your Big Bumpa (Great Grandpa Fontana ~ your namesake) had passed away...

I felt terrible that the day after your birthday was spent at a funeral, but you were a champ and didn't seem to realize what your were missing. You DID have an entire birthday WEEK of fun prior to his passing, so I don't think you really missed out on much in the long run. Your Birthday Week began at school! It was your "All About Me!" week. We brought in a huge poster all about you, cupcakes to share with your friends, and I even got to read two books to your class!


You loved having me come for a visit and we read your favorite book, Down by the Station. You were also given a birthday crown, which you wore for two days straight and your friends sang Happy Birthday to you, which made you feel like the coolest kid in town! We also met some of your neighbor friends at Bouncy Town on your actual birthday to celebrate! You loved spending time with Levi, Clara, Bryn, Hunter, Beckett and your little brother.

Because your party was cancelled, it felt like your birthday lasted forever because your family kept bringing you presents as we saw them all in the following weeks. You are one spoiled and lucky little man!








I love you to the moon and back Wilbur Anthony Geurts. More than you will ever know. And I will always, Always ALWAYS be your Mommy (so remember that when you tell me you will never, Never, NEVER be my kid again!:)