My precious, precious boy, your love for your mama knows no end.

Since the beginning, you have clung to me—your safety net in this strange world.

When you are sad, it is me you seek. With lips poked out and your head hung low, you pour out your tiny frustrations through broken sentences and words only I can understand.

When the tears stream down your cheeks after yet another collision between your sweet head and the kitchen table, those tiny legs scurry straight to my open arms. I squeeze you tight and shower you with kisses, in the hopes that they will somehow ease your pain.

When you’re tired, you interlock your tiny fingers with mine and sweetly look up at me and say, “It bedtime, Mama . . . I seepy,” and we barrel up those stairs together straight to bed, where we snuggle and exchange I love yous until those big brown eyes drift off into a peaceful sleep.

Everyone refers to you as a mama’s boy, as if it’s somehow a negative thing. They laugh and joke, and make comments here and there about how soft I am making you. They place a negative connotation on the thought of a male outwardly expressing his feelings. But now and forever, I want you to know that there is nothing wrong with that.

Please never allow anyone to declare that your love and need me for me somehow makes you less of a man. Hugs, kisses, loving words are always welcome and so appreciated. Those who tell you otherwise have been indoctrinated with the age-old idea that men aren’t supposed to show their emotions, a silly notion I hope you shy away from.

Loving your mother does not make you too soft. It doesn’t make you overly emotional. It doesn’t revoke your manhood.

Loving me means that you respect the role I play in your life. Needing me means that I am doing my job as your protector. It means that I have proven myself to be worthy at the most important job God has ever given me.

My perfect baby boy, your love is so sweet and pure, and I’m honored to be the recipient of all of your sticky toddler kisses. My only hope is that they never, ever end.

I know you’ll grow, and our relationship will go through seasons of change, but I promise to always be there for you. You are never too old to need your mother. I will always be your safe place to land.

For now, I’ll hold you close and pray that the clock ticks slowly. I want to savor these moments with you for as long as I can.

Wrap those arms around me, and tonight I’ll hold you tight, and we’ll drift off together with matching smiles. For I find my comfort and solace in your sweet toddler smell, my forever mama’s boy.

This article originally appeared on Four Norths in the South

 

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Jade North

I'm the wife of one (sorry polygamists), mom of two, inching into the threes (30s). Join me as I struggle to navigate marriage and motherhood. Laughter may ensue . . . most likely at me!