Before you, boy, I never knew that little boys could get so dirty. Play so rough. Climb so high. Assess your risks. Make me hold my breath. Messes everywhere.  

Before you, boy, I never knew how much my lap will make room for you. My arms will stretch to swallow you up in endless hugs and just hold you close. And love you to the moon and back. And back again. Snuggling and snuggling. 

RELATED: I Met a Boy and He Changed Everything

Before you, boy, I never knew that there would be so much wrestling. And superheroes, and far-off lands of dinosaurs and bears. That your imagination has no limits. As long as mine does not either. Dreaming and dreaming. 

Before you, boy, I never knew the number of times I would remind you—of showers, and missed buses, and crumpled up papers, and being a true friend and accountability. Reminding and reminding. 

RELATED: There’s Just Something About Mamas and Their Boys

Before you, boy, I never knew, that I would say so many prayers. Just for you. For nights of fevers and broken bones and finding your voice in a world so loud. Praying and praying.  

Before you, boy, I never knew, my days will need more messes. And snuggles. And dreams. And reminders. And prayers.  

Before you, boy, I never knew.  

How much I always needed you.