Guest Post: About Your Mommy

Dear Banner,

I recently asked your mommy for a chance to write a guest post on her blog. She does not know what I'm writing,what it is titled, or even remotely what the subject is. You see, she writes this blog to keep track of our lives, of your growth and development, and in the hopes that you will someday be able to look back and see what you were up to all these years ago. What mommy rarely does, however, is talk about herself (unless it in some way relates to you). I wanted to write something so that, one day in the future, when you're reading this about what you were like, you will have some record of what your mommy was like, too.

She thinks about you. You are at the forefront of her thoughts all the time. If it's past your bedtime, she is constantly reminding me to be quiet so that I don't wake you up. If it is the morning, she is making sure that you are fed, clean and presentable to the world. If she is not with you, she is wondering how you're doing. If she is out and about with you, she is trying to find new ways to stimulate your mind and keep you entertained and happy.

She plans for you. Mommy is always planning, making a list, preparing something. She is rearranging and restocking your diaper bag constantly. She is planning your upcoming week with play dates, gymnastics, reading time at the library, getting time in with friends & family, and even what you will eat. She is always calculating what time your meals and nap(s) will be each day depending on the night before and when you woke up. She is figuring the timing of big events coming up with your schedule in mind, from a wedding we're in to the Race for the Cure to one of your cousins' birthday parties.  It is a rarity indeed for mommy not to be prepared for whatever may pop up with your schedule.

She creates for you. Mommy is constantly researching new things to do with you at home and out in the wide world. She finds ways to create new experiences for you at the zoo, at the library, or even just at home. She builds organizers for your toys. She designs projects for you to play and learn. She finds a way to submerge you in social and educational environments. She sculpts giraffe-shaped sandwiches for trips to the zoo and football-shaped crackers when the Horns or Cowboys play - all for you. She bakes new breads and concocts new recipes to expand your palette.

She teaches for you. She designs activities at home that she knows will teach you a new skill or show you a new facet of our world. She reads with you and encourages you to acquire language. She coaches you on how to do new things that you've never done before, most of the time with the intent that you will be able to do them again on your own. She takes time to substitute at her old school so that you have time to stay with Aunt Kiki, Grandma, Aunt Gayle or Aunt Shelby and learn from them, too.

She nurtures you. All of these things are done to nurture your personality, your sense of humor, your intellect, and your smile. When you smile she smiles brighter as a result. When you laugh she bellows out with joy. When you cry her heart aches for a way to make it better. When you fuss she fights herself to react in a way that she wants to model for you. When you just need a moment to cuddle, she is a soft, warm place for you to nuzzle and be home.

She remembers for you. She keeps a running list of your milestones, including how old you are when you reach them, and she notes the details to remember the circumstances surrounding your growth. She has diaries of the foods you have eaten and how you reacted. She blogs several times a week to ensure that we all have a catalog of you.

Everything your mommy does is for you. You are constantly on her mind, in her thoughts and prayers, and in her arms for as long as you will hold still in them. You are so blessed to have a mommy as great as yours. Like me, she loves you more every day and more than she ever knew she could. No matter where you go or what you do, she is with you, she is thinking about you, and she loves you.

Love, Daddy