dear pratt.

my dear sweet, kind pratt,

listen.

sometimes i harass you about your non stop talking.  and how it literally takes you 30 minutes to spend 3 dollars at the dollar store.  i give you a hard time about how you always want to wear your nike/reebok/walmart zip up jacket and pant suit instead of jeans and button ups.

but i would not change anything about you, child.

i realize now at 34 that God really does make each of us how HE thinks we should be.  i guess i should say that i realize it about myself, finally.  you, on the other hand...well, i have thought you were perfect since september 13, 2008 at 5:35 pm.

i feel like sometimes you get your needs met only after max's have been met.

in part, that is because he's younger.  and usually he requires more help than you do.  you're very capable at 5 years old.  i'm fairly certain that i could leave you for a week and you would do a better job at parenting than i would.

but also because i worry so much about max.  about when we will hear him really talk.  about when he will stop throwing small fits because he can't get his words out.  and so because of this...and lots more, i find myself giving him more time...being more patient with him.

and as a result, i am harder on you.

for that, i am sorry.

so, so sorry.  and i promise, that i WILL do better.

in all my years, i have never seen a better sibling than i see in you.

you are max's biggest fan.  his biggest cheerleader.

lately you've started saying, "max.  race me.  race me to the door."  and then proceed to act like you're running as fast as you can.  only it's like a slow motion movie.  you're all throwing your head this way and that.  and flailing your arms about.  but you're actually moving at a snail's pace.

but max has NO idea.  and so he's pumping those little legs of his.  laughing hysterically.  trying so hard to beat you.  and he does.  he hits that door before you do.  and then you fall to the ground in defeat.  and shout, "max!  you did it!  you won!!!"

it's then that you look up from the ground...at me.  and you smile.  and it's a secret that only you and i share.

in that moment, my heart feels like it might burst from my chest.  i am the happiest i can be.  i'm proud.  i'm hopeful.

in that moment, i realize how God loves me.

i don't ever want you to think that it's one sided.  i hope that when you're 35, you'll remember back to when you were 5.  and max was 2.  and i hope you remember how every single morning, max wakes up and when he and i hit that bottom step, he shouts out, "aaaaaaattttt!?"  he looks for you.  he wants to know where you are.

it's you he wants to sit with before bedtime.  it's you he wants to share a blanket with.  it's you he wants to play with.  run with.  laugh with.  it's always you.  and it will always be you.  i promise.  i know.  because i would ALWAYS pick sugar over anyone else.

so pratt, thank you for the brother you are.  thank you for the son you are.  the grandson.  for the friend. the cousin.  the nephew.

you get it.  i could go on and on.

i think you're stronger than superman.  and i think you're faster than lightening mcqueen.

i love you to the moon and back. and i'm so blessed to be your mommy.

xoxo,
mommy.