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// she's only happy in the sun.
Aug 12

letters to phoenix // 8.

dear phoenix,

i know these posts are supposed to be all about you, but i want to start this one with how you have single-pudgy-dimpled-handedly, changed me.

in so many ways you, a little boy with blueberry eyes, have broken me open. helped me learn things about myself that both exhilarate and scare me. i feel myself growing more empathetic, more vulnerable, more sensitive by the day. suddenly every person i encounter is someone else’s child, someone’s ‘phoenix’. and so i grieve more. i ache for parents losing their children to illness or accidents. and my teeth clench at the innocent casualties of war and famine and disease. i avert my eyes to violence on tv. and i hug you tightly in honor of all those parents who, for whatever reason, don’t get to hug their little ones today.

you’ve also evolved my relationship with your papa. i honestly didn’t think it was possible to love him any more, but watching him with you, i’m constantly blown away by his devotion and care. you are the brightest light in his world, and he adores you so, so much. hearing him say ‘goodnight prayers’ with you every night, i know i’d marry him all over again. and again.

you are the best example of unconditional love and acceptance. you greet me every time you wake with a giant smile that instantly dismantles my foulest of moods. through your eyes, i feel whole and strong and brave. and so, i give you the unfiltered, unbridled me. the me that sings loudly to insanely catchy and embarrassing songs, and dances gangnam style in the kitchen.

you give me context. the trials and tests i encounter don’t seem that grave or formidable when i remember you. and the same goes for our joys and opportunities. sure, there are some pretty incredible exciting things i’m involved in (dream projects in fact) but still, you win. you are the reason i go to sleep with a heart full of hope and happiness.

like both your mama and your papa, you are ticklish and your laughter heals hurts i forgot i had. i want to flash-freeze the moments when we’re giggling together, sprawled on couches or beds or floors, so i can defrost them 15 years down the road, and remember the days when my baby boy let me hang out with him for hours without complaint.

and this doesn’t mean it’s not hard. i still have so much to learn. my patience is tested and i fiercely miss my independence. my schedule. my ability to just get up and go wherever. heck, i still miss caffeine. and there are days where i just can’t wait for you to take a nap so i can have a moment to myself. there are struggles and anxieties and worries that keep me up late at night asking the internet for answers (i’m looking at you immunization schedules). but then you place your little hand on my arm as i’m nursing you, and i remember that i am your mama. no one else. i’m at once floored and awed by this responsibility. and i realize i wouldn’t give any of this up for my former life, as this new life with you just keeps getting sweeter and sweeter.

happy six months, my darling.



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3 comments on “letters to phoenix // 8.”

  1. Mary Says:

    This post made me cry. I’m not a mama, not even close, but I am thankful for your transparency and continual honesty. Your posts are refreshingly emotional.

  2. layli Says:

    i love this. and i love you. you are such an amazing mother and friend. so proud of you, gol!!! xooxxo

  3. Elizabeth Says:

    this von vas a grate von. miss you fiercely.

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