The Kid who Readied Me.

Our Giganto turns 8 today.  He is the boy who stretched me, the one who readied me to become the mom I am, the one who continues to stretch me as a human being.  Giganto is the most self confident kid I know, so saying what I’m about to say won’t bother him in the slightest.

Giganto’s love language is food.  It always has been.  He is saddled with a mom who hates to cook, and sometimes forgets to eat.  Giaganto, I know this is  rather unacceptable to you, but you love me anyway.  I love you for loving me wholeheartedly, flaws and all.

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You came to us as our third boy.  We were told, via an obviously flawed ultrasound that you were a girl.  Had you been, your name would have been Catelyn, Cate for short.  You find that very funny now, because even you know what an ugly girl you would make.  Your brother’s tease you about it, and you laugh, because not a whole lot hurts your feelings.  You know how to laugh at yourself when it’s funny.

You followed two wildly good-at-everything older brothers.  I won’t lie, we were upset when you weren’t good at everything.  In fact, we worried.  I worried.  You were ‘slow.’  You didn’t say more than two words (they may have been more and food) until you were three years old.  Then, one day, you just suddenly figured it out, and out came all these amazing thoughts that you must have just been waiting for the right time to share.

You struggled learning to read.  In fact, you cried a lot, and so did I.  Then, one day, that just clicked too, and now you love all things bookish.  I love that about you.  You did it on your own timeframe.

I also love that fact that of all your brothers, you are wholeheartedly to most affectionate and open with me.  You cry buckets when you’re sad, and you tell me everything that makes you happy.  You love me the most openly.  You are my little-big man.  When you were three-years-old, there was a period of time when you wanted to take me on dates.  This involved my putting on nice clothes and you escorting me to the play room where you prepared me fake food for hours.  I will hold onto those memories until my dying day.

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I worry about you a lot.  I worry that because you’re not athletic right now, and your, now three, role model older brothers are, that you will feel inferior, that you will think that makes you less.  In the beginning, I pushed you hard to be something that you just aren’t, because I thought you weren’t enough.  You are more than enough.  In fact, to me, you’re everything.  I’m so sorry I didn’t see that from day one.  I’m so sorry that, sometimes, your teachers don’t see it.  It’s their loss.

You were the first of the children who came first to love me openly, despite my many, many flaws.  You love me for exactly who I am.  If you never win a swim race, never write the great American novel, or never join Mensa, I will love you just as I do now.  You are never a disappointment to me when you learn at your own pace.  You try as hard as you can, well, most of the time, I know that.  You are just who you are, and I love that about you.

Giganto 8-1

You readied me to parent the children that came after you.  While you learn and do at your own pace because that’s just who you are, they learn and do at their own pace because of emotional and physical limitations.  You taught me that was okay, and that sometimes, the good is worth waiting, and fighting, for.

Today, I promise to listen as you talk my ear off about all the little things, to let you finish at your own pace, knowing that someday, it will be someone else who you will love the very most and who gets to hear all of your many, many tales.  Thank you for contributing so much to making me the mom I am.  I love you so much little buddy.

–FullPlateMom, who is now crying more then just a little.

One Comment Add yours

  1. Sue says:

    Perhaps we will see him on Top Chef one day!

    Like

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