A letter to my boy

Dear Levi,

My sweet boy. I love you so much. You are such an unspeakable source of joy in my life. I hope that your life will be fulfilling and rewarding and that I'll raise you with a knowledge of how special you are....to me and to those whose life you will impact, but especially to our Heavenly Father.

However, thinking over my younger years, I'm sure at some point in your life, you may question if I truly have your best interest at heart (after all, if I really loved you, wouldn't I be letting you play in that championship game on Sunday or letting you go to that unsupervised boy-girl party?). Well buddy, should you ever wonder if or how much I love you, please recall in that genius mind of yours the events of this morning.

Remember how we had to get up early and go to the doctors office for John Morgan's check-up? Remember how you had a poopy literally as we were walking out the door. And how freezing cold it was! Boy, that was fun. Especially when you kept running away from me in the doctors office, and defiantly saying "no" every time I asked you to "please come back." Remember when all those people kept staring at us and shaking their heads and saying "You sure have your hands full, don't you." Oh, if only they knew we are expecting another, tee hee hee. And then came the car ride home...that was the best! I'm still not sure why the two of you were so upset, I guess I thought you'd be sad about going to the doctor, not leaving. Anyway, once you were settled down, I found my saving grace. Something that would make everything better. Chick-Fil-A! I pulled away with my Chicken-Mini's meal, hash browns and orange juice included. The greasiness settled so nicely into my tummy, calming my morning sickness. {Note: there is just something to be said for not-so-good food and pregnancy...not sure where that connection comes from or why it exists (except to make me fat again), but it is so very, very real.}

Anyway, we get home and I bring everything into the house. Then I bring you boys in. I realize my orange juice is still sitting in the cup holder in the car. I go back out to grab it, and upon returning to the house, find you running my way with the Chick-Fil-A bag in tow, excitedly screaming "Dinner! Mom look! It's dinner! Come on, Mom. Have some. Come on, Mom!" You were so stinkin' cute! That little sparkle in your eye...gets me every time {seriously, it really does}! So, I sat you down with a plate and filled it with my last chicken-mini and the last of my hash browns. Did you read that? THE LAST ONE!

That is how much I love you sweetie. And I always will. You can always have my last, mouth-watering-ly delicious, morning-sickness-curing chicken-mini. You're that special!


All My Love Always,
Mommy