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| One week old |
Dear Freddy,
You're a smart boy so I know you won't think that your name is Freddy, even though I call you that all the time. It just happens to rhyme with "ready".
As I write this, my mind is taking me back three years when I was sitting in the exact spot on the couch, breathing through contractions. I've gotta be honest, dude, I'm much more comfortable tonight than I was then. But I'm not as excited. The anticipation of finally being able to meet the little person that I had only felt for nine months was getting to me and I couldn't wait for the contractions to get closer so that we could go to the hospital and get the party started.
And what a party these last three years have been.
When you first arrived, I would send pictures to Omi and write her letters as if you were talking to her. I've been reading those letters this last week and all of the things that I imagined you'd become, have so far come true.
You are just like Daddy when it comes to fixing things. In fact, your fire truck is sitting in front of me with a screw driver hanging out of it and you threw a fit before bedtime because you still needed to fix it. I reminded you that even worker men needed to sleep.
I anticipated you loving to visit Daddy at work so you could drive the tractors. Sure enough, you do! Although you have been a little hesitant the last couple times we've gone. But once you honk the horn at me a few times, you're comfortable again.
You are a bright, funny, sweet, charming, curious, button pushing, thoughtful, loving little guy. Each day with you gets better and better. Thank you for being my sweet boy!
Ugga mugga!
Mama
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