The Man Cub

He's short. He loves to follow me around and make spitting sounds. If I spit back at him he giggles. He loves to sing and dance to music and will get upset if I don't share my food with him. He loves to be outside and stick things in his mouth-especially the things that really gross me out like the soles of shoes or lettuce that didn't make it into the trash. He loves to make a mess and to take a bath, but he HATES having lotion massaged into his perfect skin, and he hates having clothes put on him worst of all.

He sometimes has a quiet demeanor when he's sincerely studding an item he just found. Then, there are times when he is very loud- he'll bang on the window and talk to the plants, he'll yell and cry at me if I don't know what he wants, and he'll hit the floor with a block he just found to see how it sounds. 

He'll disgust me when he uses the toilet to pull himself up or when I find him eating trash. He'll scare me when he falls and hits his head for the ump-tee-nth time that day adding another bruise to his forehead and to my heart. He'll melt me with his mumbles and un-distinguishable  forms of telling me I'm beautiful and that he loves me. He's eight months old and he's my son. 

We play, we laugh, we clash heads from equal stubbornness, we cry, but most of all we love. 

And at the end of the day that's what matters most.

Before becoming a mom I was always told that moms are so hard on themselves and that they question everything they did or did not do to/with/for their children.

I thought: "How can this be? Your child is happy and healthy and you both love each other. You're doing great as a mom!"

Little did I know the weight of true responsibility.

Each stone of being responsible for another human life was being cast at me from the moment I saw his little face. No body was casting them at me...I was standing under the canister of rocks and pulling the string down upon myself.

...did I spend enough time with him today?
...could I have prevented him from that fall?
...did he eat enough today? Was it mostly healthy foods? Oh, I hope he doesn't end up with an eating disorder!
...how long has THAT been there and I was too busy to notice?
...does he know I love him even though I was impatient?
...am I providing and giving him everything in my power?

I started off only pulling that string for one rock at a time until I had an avalanche upon me.

People have asked me, "What is your biggest surprise about motherhood?"

My biggest surprise about motherhood? The weight of a great responsibility being-not put on my shoulders- but pinned as a medal of honor on my heart.

I want him to have the best life he can have, and I don't want any of the tough times in his life be because of me.

I know he'll have ups and downs like we all have but I want to be his 'up' when he is down, not the other way and certainly not to make anything worse.

I'm not going to pull that string anymore. I'm tempted to, but I just have to remind myself that I am somebody's mom.

I am somebody's hero.

I am somebody's crazy.

I am somebody's love.

I am somebody's beautiful.

I am somebody's great.

And somebody is my "I love you".

"You are my I love you {FULL VERSION}"

I am your parent you are my child
I am your quiet place, you are my wild
I am your calm face, you are my giggle
I am your wait, you are my wiggle
I am your audience, you are my clown
I am your London Bridge, you are my falling down
I am your Carrot Sticks, you are my licorice
I am your dandelion, you are my first wish
I am your water wings, you are my deep
I am your open arms, you are my running leap
I am your way home, you are my new path
I am your dry towel, you are my wet bath
I am your dinner you are my chocolate cake
I am your bedtime, you are my wide awake
I am your finish line, you are my race
I am your praying hands, you are my saving grace
I am your favourite book, you are my new lines
I am your nightlight, you are my sunshine
I am your lullaby, you are my peek-a-boo
I am your kiss goodnight, you are my I love you

 Author of the Poem "You are My I Love You": Maryann K Cusimano