A love letter to my son

There’s not many photos of Mitch and me (or me full stop) but here’s one somewhere along the Great Australian Bite – January 2012 (before THAT hair cut!)

Dear Mitch,

What a ride this past ten and a bit years has been. From a fairly smooth pregnancy (we did think we were going to lose you when I was 5 weeks pregnant) to now, there is so much I want to share with you so you understand where we’re coming from but til then how about I just tell you what I love about you.

So here goes:

• The care you show your little brother. Sure, you torment him but when it counts you are there for him in a way that makes me burst with pride.
• Your resilience. You bounce back from whatever upsets you very quickly. It’s something I admire because you certainly didn’t get that trait from me. I’m tipping it’s from your dad.
• Your vulnerability. You’re not afraid to tell us when you’re nervous, upset or unsure. This takes courage. I hope that continues into your grunting teenage years.
• Your laissez faire approach to life. Geez, it shits me at times because, unless you’re running to the laptop to play Minecraft, you are not fussed about too much at all and certainly not in a hurry to get things done and that includes going to bed and getting ready for school. We should have taken it as a sign that you’d never be in a hurry to do anything when you took so long to come out. You were in No Hurry. Pretty much your philosophy on life now! Yep, should have taken it as a sign. I’ve never seen you throw a tantrum – you know, the supermarket kind. Yes you can get cranky, as all kids can, but we’ve all seen little brother’s tantrums. Not a patch on them.
• Your willingness to give almost anything a go. You really need to give broccoli another try though.
• Your laugh – especially when you’re watching Woodley.
• Your big blue eyes. So gorgeous.
• Your olive skin. You get that from me you know.
• Your long lanky legs. You remind me of a colt. Ahem, you don’t get those from me.

But most of all I love your hugs, kisses, love, affection, trust and the simple fact you’re my son. (Sucky moment alert here…) You are the reason I’ve tried to discover who I really am and what works for me and what doesn’t. Your birth was life changing for me in every single way and I hope one day to share what that really means with you. But for now, just know that I simply love you fiercely and I look forward to the coming years of watching you grow into a teenager and young man. Just make sure you bloody call me if you need me and don’t get into a car driven by some dickhead who’s been drinking. I’ll have your guts.

Love mum xx

PS – and don’t smoke either.

Some brotherly love at Glenmaggie – Easter 2012