Plain and Simple
My Precious Child,
You are 5 weeks old now. You weigh at least 10 and a half lbs. though we don't trust our scale here at home so we are waiting until your next appointment to say for sure. You have the most beautiful skin and adorable wavy brown hair. You are alert and good natured and very stubborn. You love to smile at your daddy and get kisses from the puppies, despite my insisting that their disgusting mouths should go nowhere near your face. Your daddy says I worry too much.
He may be right. But you're my baby. Whether you're 5 weeks old, 5 years old, or 5 decades old, please don't forget that. I know that you will grow. You will learn to read and write and climb trees and do cartwheels and solve algebraic equations and drive a car and sneak out of the house and kiss whoever it is you want to kiss; but no matter how grown you are, a part of me will forever see you as the 7 lb. 14 oz. newborn they placed on my chest that misty St. Patrick's Day evening.
So I am going to tell you the simplest, purest, most honest thing I could ever tell you: you are my baby and I love you. There's no changing that. You hold a piece of me that nobody else ever has or ever will. Your safety and your happiness means more to me than I could ever explain. So someday when you're tempted to drive too fast down a backroad, I need you to remember that. And when somebody offers you another shot of tequila and you've already had one too many, I need you to remember that. And when you're afraid to tell me your darkest secret, I need you to remember that. And when you're feeling alone, I need you to remember that. Remember that so you never feel that you can't talk to me, so that you will always know just how beautiful you are, so that you will know that there is nothing in the world that could stop my love for you.
You are my baby and I love you. Plain and simple. No conditions.
Always and Forever,
Mom




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