Dear Braedon, wonderful, joyful beautiful son of mine. I love you. You are the love of my life and I love everything about you! You have the catchiest smile and the life that is in each expression is priceless; I wish I could bottle them all up for a rainy day years from now when I want to hold you again.
Your sense of adventure excites me; I am also a little aprehensive to see where this sense will take you as you grow older. I pray for both of us that God will protect you and calm my nerves as you will undoubtably test your mortal limits.
All this being said, for now, can you just be little? Can you crawl up as many times as you like into my lap with your puppy and your books? Can we sit and snuggle watching the dogs play? Can we roll the ball back and forth and splash in the bathtub?
If there is one thing I could ask of you tonight though, if it's not too much to ask, could you refrain from pooping all over your self and then holding your arms up for a hug without telling me that I am going to be wearing it? Can you please refrain from turning to me, as I sit going to the bathroom, and puke all over me, down the front of my jeans, down the inside of my jeans, all over the floor and even in the toilet? I really could do without those moments...sigh...but if that is the price I must pay for all the other wonderful moments, I guess it will be ok.