Leon Harrison, I thought often over the past year about writing your letter on your first birthday. I will write to you, just like I had done for your brother. When you would rub your eyes with both hands in your car seat and fight your sleep until we arrived home. When you would sing to keep yourself awake because you loved being at home to sleep. I took note, I took note of how cute you looked (even though you were miserably sleepy) I sometimes starred at you to much in the mirror than I should have. I took note of how you sit in the bath tub like a sumo wrestler, your chubby little belly resting on your knees. The times we danced in the kitchen and you giggled and sang with me, I stamped it on my heart and sealed it there to keep. The first time you crawled, or I found your first teeth or the first time you pulled up, Happiness consumed me. Leon, I knew you were a promise God would fulfill, we named you long before you were in my tummy and called you that like we knew you were coming. Leon means lion, and Leon spelled backwards is Noel which means shout of joy. Your name sweet sweet boy is so fitting, it makes perfect sense that God put you in my heart before he ever put you in my belly. One of your favorite things to do is roar, when you do I always say in my head "hear me roar". I know you are a leader, you are fierce and strong and you will speak and mountains will move. I felt it in my spirit when the nurse said its a boy. "Shout of joy" that second part of your name can't be forgotten because you are as joyful as you are fierce. Your sweet little smile captivates hearts and flirts with souls. I haven't ever told very many people of the strong feelings I had the week I found out you were in fact Leon, I cried and cried, maybe because I had dreamed of you, maybe because I had named you, maybe because you were the brother God had picked out for WB or the son he had picked out for me and your dad. I cried and was overwhelmed at the feeling of calling I felt on your little life. I don't know if you're my little preacher man or if you will feed the children of Africa, all I know is God put it on my heart and I pray for it to come to light, and I can't wait to watch you grow and watch that calling unfold. For now your my sweet baby boy who absolutely adores me, I've never felt so strongly that I was enough, but sometimes you fall back asleep mid air after I pick you just cause you simply wanted me to hold you. You don't need much from me, but yet you convince me to give you my everything. You have been such a joy, to me, your daddy and to your brother. You love to play with toys, to dance, to take baths and to feed yourself. I love you and am so excited to watch you grow and for the relationship you have with your big brother to mature. I hope that one day you and your brother look back at the years I was able to spend at home with you and that good memories flood your minds. I hope that the good always out weighs the bad and that I am a mother you are proud to have. Thank you so much for being my sweet baby boy, I am so so thankful for you Leon and am so happy that God knew you were exactly what our family and the world needed. I know God placed you in my heart for a reason but more importantly I know he placed you on this earth for great things! I love you sweet little blonde hair and those sweet sweet eyes! Happy 1st Birthday baby boy! Love, mama

Undocumented pancakes.

I've read before that the happiness and peace a child feels in their first two years of life is what goes with them for the rest of their life. That's a lot of pressure right? As if some days I don't already feel like I'm drowning in milk and applesauce you have to tell me that the rest of my child's life is riding on how well I handle it? Leon isn't the greatest sleeper, God love him, he is the cutest, sweetest and most tender child, but sleep is just not for him. I often feel ill and tired and my patience seems thin because of my lack of sleep. I hate it. Really I do, I hate the feeling of getting through the motions and hoping for bedtime to come. Everyone needs me, the house needs me, I need me. A lot rides on mamas, we are a special breed. Sometimes I lay my head down and literally think did I brush my teeth or was that last night? I know, I know you say, but you only have two, but really sleep is a beautiful thing. I should just be one of those tough mamas and put him in his crib to fend for himself... He's 7 months that's old enough right? Yeah right... We literally have conversations like this in our house, Michael: I think he doesn't sleep good because you don't snuggle with him. So we are kinda completely opposite of cry it out, we snuggle it out. so where was I going with this blog, oh yeah to the fact that since having Leon, my big baby became a big boy. I didn't notice it when we brought Leon home, or when we potty trained him, I didn't decide he was a big boy when he started walking in Sunday school and telling me "see you later". I first noticed one night when Michael had taken Leon for a nap and me and Braylon were going to make breakfast for dinner. I told him we were going to make pancakes, something we have done plenty of times, I usually get the ingredients out and then just let him stir, but that night he got them out himself. Butter, milk, flour, sugar, eggs and then he pointed to my baking cabinet and requested the baking soda and salt. I think he probably could had handled it without my supervision. That's what hit me, the reality that he use to watch me do and now I watched him do. That night me and him laughed and cooked for several hours, while daddy and Leon napped. I didn't know where my phone was, it was completely undocumented. Just me and him and silly conversations. "Pancakes are good mama, I'm going to make daddy a giant pancake" "daddy will love his giant pancake" sometimes the accessibility of our phones make it hard to put them away. I wish I would have used my phone to record him that night, his sweet generous heart. I wish I could have put it on a cd and in a envelope and kept in our safe. So I could go back and recall that sweet little boy who will one day grow up and have no interest in knowing where I keep my baking soda. These intimate times, without our phones or the world outside, those are the times that we see the peace and happiness we have instilled in our children. These are the times that I can tell how generous of a heart Braylon has, and how happy it made him to be serving someone else. (Making pancakes for his daddy) it's these times that make me realize that he doesn't see the pain or struggle or even realize I'm crying over the gallon of organic milk that just split. He knows he is loved, he knows that he is one of a kind. I know he learns so much from me. I use to be sad by the fact he was growing older, but now I embrace it, I have babied and nurtured every part of his Little soul, even on the days I didn't have anything left,at all, it was because I had given him my all, every little piece I had to give. I have laid awake, more tired than imaginable only to kiss his sleeping brow to tell him sorry for crying over milk. I know that there is so much more for him to learn from me, but he is teaching me so much more than I could ever learn him. He tells me things like "I'm so proud of you" and "you're so smart". He doesn't tell me things like "why'd you spread applesauce all over the couch" or "lay down and go to sleep". Kids somehow get the important stuff and they forgive the other. Thank you Jesus, the peace and happiness you give my children. Thank you Jesus the patience you give this mamas heart. I don't ever wish a day away, I have cherished ever passing day whether it's spilling milk or making pancakes, I will continue to love my growing boys and hope that they never stop seeing the good in me and forgiving the bad.

I'm sorry you aren't here.

Sometimes days past without you crossing my mind, other days you are brought to my attention, but on some days I think of you, and I cry. I cry for my children, I cry for myself, I cry for you but more than anyone I cry for my husband, your son. I never realized marrying him would bring such an emotional battle, not because he's like you or because he walks around moping and blaming you. If anything you give him motivation, to be better, to do good by me and his children. It's an emotional battle because as his wife I am suppose to complete him, make him whole. I am suppose to share in his pain, hurt with when his heart does and rejoice in his happiness. The hurt and pain are very real, very present but Regardless of how much time I spend crying on the floor, going over things in my head over and over again, I can't come up with a solution. Without your effort nothing will change, I've prayed God please change his heart, change ours, God please, yet everything remains the same. I've tried to think maybe we are the only chance of Christ like love you will know, and I'm forced to realize you don't except our love. I wish you knew what it feels like to not be able to kiss away his pain. Do you know what it feels like for a part of a person to be missing and not be able to fill it, but want to with every part of your being? It's hard for me to think you have, and I'd love to be proven wrong, you have no idea how I wish you'd prove me wrong. I've seen my husband kissed the head of our children and know he feels the same love I do for them, I know he has to wonder if you ever felt that same love. One day when we thought something was seriously wrong with one of the boys, he said he drove the whole way to the doctors office to get the report, pleading with God. He said that he hadn't held him enough, to please give him all the time in the world to hold him. Have you ever had that desperation? Every ounce of your being consumed by the love you have for your children? I use to be on your side always encouraging him, hoping you'd be different. I use to think if we could just get your ears or eyes that you'd fall so in love with your grandsons that you'd never walk out of our lives again. I used to be naive always hoping for the best, praying for a change, praying to see the best thing to do, how we could love YOU differently, but we have free will and there is only so much we can do until our hearts are wholly Gods. I try hard to keep my heart soft but it's hard to not be insulted. It's hard to not see what an amazing man I am married to and not be insulted why you wouldn't want to share in his life? Why you don't care to watch him be successful and how he is loved by his bosses and done well at his job? How he is a wonderful husband to me and treats me with love and respect and loves me more and more each day. How he tells me things like "thank you for having my boys" or how on the most simple of days he looks at me and says "today is my favorite day". I am insulted and so deeply hurt that these to sweet babies have no idea who you are. I am sad that you haven't seen you son become a man, become a father. My most favorites role he plays. He loves them so incredible much, I have never had to ask him to make them a priority or to play with them, love them, change them, to bath them or rock them to sleep. His love for them blows me away. So I'm sorry, I am sorry I cry over you, I am sorry that I can't make you care. Most importantly I am sorry you aren't here. I'm sorry you are missing out. I hope one day you really get to know your son, he is quite the guy.