A Letter to My Son

My dearest Micah,

Six months ago today, I watched as you entered the world, a moment that changed my life. I will never forget it. You came out all purpled with the cord wrapped around your neck. My heart stopped beating until you let out the most remarkable wail for a thing so tiny. Dr. Pennebaker held you up so I could see. Your brows were furrowed, the corners lips turned down, your delicate eyelids closed. The light in the room hugged your tiny frame and beamed outward, a true reflection of all that I was feeling in that glorious moment. I never believed in “love at first sight” until I met you. And not only did I love you, for the first time in my life, I loved someone naturally, thoroughly more than I loved myself. I knew then I would do anything for you, and in six months that feeling has not faltered, only grown.

Everyone thinks their baby is the most beautiful, gifted baby in the world, but I know for a fact that you actually are. You were a lovely newborn, something very rare, but your beauty has only increased with each new day. Today, you have large, expressive eyes that fall somewhere between brown and gray, and they are framed by long, curling lashes. You have beautiful red hair that curls slightly at the tips when it is damp from sweat or your bath, a feature especially ordered by your Grandma. You have the sweetest heart-shaped little face, decorated with a cleft chin. You have Grandma’s elf ear, Daddy’s lips, Mommy’s forehead, and Grandpa Boyce’s stout physique. You are marvelously unique and beautiful, crafted by the Creator’s loving hand. You are as wonderful in character as you are in body. You are a sweet, easy going, contented baby, full of laughter and smiles for everyone whether young or old. You go along with whatever we throw at you—new people, bottles or breast, varying feeding times and bedtimes--whatever. We can take you anywhere, which is why we’ve taken you with us on two different vacations. You have captured everyone’s heart with your sweetness, which is a good thing because you love, love, love attention and cry when you don’t get it. One of my favorite things you do is that you wake up so happy from your naps. I won’t even know you’re awake until I hear your gentle coos from your crib. It’s one of my favorite sounds in the world. The only damper on your pleasant moods is your awful tummy aches. We have them mostly under control with medication, but you still have trouble from time to time.

In addition to being beautiful and darling, you are a quick learner. You were holding your head up a bit before we even came home from the hospital. You were rolling over both ways on your one month birthday. At three months, you were smiling, laughing, cooing, crowing, jumping (in your jumper), and standing with a little help. You were razzing, babbling, and creeping on your tummy at four months. At five months, you had mastered “da-da,” “ma-ma,” “dub-dub” and squealing, as well as sitting up without help, and copying some movement. You could also locate, pick up, and play with a toy. You can almost put your own pacifier in your mouth. Today, you are well on your way to crawling, as you can push up your chest and get up on your knees, albeit not at the same time (see video below and forgive Mommy for getting a little too excited about things). You have Grandma and Pops thinking you’ll be a genius, but don’t worry, there’s no pressure.

It’s true you have accomplished several physical feats, but you are also a well-traveled and experienced baby. You have been to or traveled through Louisiana, Arkansas, Mississippi, Alabama and Florida. You have visited the mountains and the beach. You are a good traveler and you really like the sand and ocean! You’ve been swimming. I think you like it. You’ve seen three movies in the theater. You enjoy television, especially Baby Einstein DVDs. You like books, your cloth book in particular, which you can play with and attempt to eat. You’ve been to several of Mommy’s voice lessons, you enjoy playing the piano with mommy (see video below), and although you have heard everything from pop to country to classical to rock to hymns to rap, your favorite song is “Roll Over,” which indicates your flawless musical taste. Your food palate is slightly less extended than your musical one due to your mommy’s allergies. Thus far, you have only had breast milk, goat milk, pear juice, rice cereal and avocado (see video below). Your favorite is avocado, which your daddy is super excited about—he sees lots and lots of guacamole in his future. You’re on this kick where you like to touch, pet, scratch, and taste everything. You are fascinated by the textures of blue jeans, Mommy’s skin and Daddy’s hair.

Micah, you are the only person in the world that I am happy to see at any hour of the day or night. You are the only person in the world that incites me to cry with him when he has a tummy ache. You are the only person in the world that can make this feministic go-getter want to stay home with her child instead of pursuing a career. You are the only person in this world that makes being a stay-at-home mom feel like my real job. You’ve been doing all of this learning, but you’ve also been doing a lot of teaching. You have taught your mommy to slow down, enjoy the moment and not be anxious for things to come. You have taught your mommy to be patient, something no one has ever been able to teach her. You have taught your mommy how to love sacrificially, unconditionally and without bounds. You have given her a glimpse into the heart of our Heavenly Father, into His great, great love for His children. You have brought more joy, light and laughter into our home than I could have ever imagined, and no matter what I give of myself, it will never measure up to what you have given me. Thank you, little one, “for the gladness you have brought me as I have walked these heavy miles.” You have made life oh so sweet. I love you.

All of me,


P.S. I have a few bits of advice to give you before I’m done.

1) Go ahead and mouth as much as you like. It’s a part of your learning process. Just please stay away from the books. You’ll want to read them someday, and never mind the bit I read you from Ezekial a few weeks ago. The only books that taste like honey are the ones God will hand you Himself.

2) Never equate your size with your ability.

3) Regardless of what other parents do, I’m not going to puff you up with nonsense about abilities you don’t actually have in the name of building your self-esteem. I probably won’t even let you win very often, specifically at Boggle. It will be all in the name of love. I can’t have you making a jackass of yourself on national television. You are a child of God, born with a unique set of gifts and purpose. Find your value in Him, and that will be enough.

4) Cling to your innocence. It is far too undervalued in our culture.

5) Strive for balance in all things. Avoid dogmatism at all cost.

6) Don’t be afraid of failure. It’s an everyday part of life. Without risk, there is no reward.

7) Find humor in everything, especially the crappy parts of life. It’s there; I promise, and it will lighten your load when times get tough.

8) Don’t be embarrassed by your last name. You come from good stock, and it will build character.

9) Adulthood isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Enjoy your childhood.

10) Seek God first. Keep your heart pure and tender. Read your Bible every day. Pray about everything. In God alone will you find joy, peace, comfort and hope. Times are only getting harder from here, and you’re going to need Him. He is the only One who will never fail you.