To Remember

Good morning Beckett, 

I’ve been trying to be good at documenting your life- so that someday, when you're older, you can come back here and read about it.

All your firsts. All our adventures. What life was like when you were born. 

What our house sounded like.

What our mornings were like.

I’ve documented your siblings and what life has been like for them. So while you’re small and growing I’m trying to document you- so I remember. 

The first few months weren’t necessarily hard, we just had to adjust to a little one again. I was tired and could barely function. You wanted to be with me all the time. You wanted to nurse a lot. You slept a lot, right on me- but I did not mind at all. I loved every minute of being with you. Daddy woke up in the middle of the night the first few weeks to help me change your diapers and made sure I was comfortable. But it was usually just you and I. Nursing you, rocking you back to sleep in those quiet morning hours. 

We were busy with a newborn and your three older siblings. Life didn't stop. Your brothers were doing basketball when you were born, so Saturday mornings meant bundling you up, getting you in your car seat and heading out to watch them play. 

And then there was this morning.

An ordinary Wednesday in May. You, almost five months old. 

It was 6:30 am. The house still quiet. I was sitting on the couch, enjoying my morning coffee, waiting to wake your siblings up for school. You were happily playing on the floor nearby.

And I caught you trying to roll over. 

You struggled for a few minutes.

You rocked yourself back and forth. 

You'd almost get there and then lose your balance.

You'd wiggle and kick your legs. 

You tried again.

And again.

And then……

you finally did it! 

And then did it again and again. 

After weeks and weeks of practicing, all that tummy time and those little exercises- you finally rolled yourself right over to your tummy! 

Mama was so proud. 

I had to tell daddy, who was already at work.

I had to tell your siblings once they woke up and sleepily stumbled down the stairs.

It may have been a small milestone to someone else, but to me it felt enormous. 

Because I knew what it took to get to this moment. 

You were growing,

Right there in front of me.

And I wanted to remember it.

The big things. The little things, All the ordinary moments.

The way you looked on the floor that morning. Wiggly and rocking back and forth. And the excitement I felt when you didn't give up. 

So I'm writing it down Beckett. 

So one day, when you're older. Maybe a teenager, maybe a grown man with children of your own. Or maybe one day you'll find yourself here when I am no longer around to tell you stories of your life. 

When that day comes, you can come back here and remember how little you were- and just how proud your mama was of you. But also, you were so proud of yourself.