"Bluebird" - Miranda Lambert

RB turned three last week. Three full years of a boy who is a blessing to everyone who has the honor of knowing him.

A few days late, but here's my letter to you, RB.

RB,

Three years! Hand to God, I can't actually wrap my mind around the fact that I've known you three years, that I have been your mother for three years - shit, honey, I can't wrap my mind around the fact that I've been a whole ass mother for three entire calendar years. Absolutely mind-blowing.

Some days, it feels like I'm meeting you for the first time. You're evolving by the minute. Recently, you've gotten really into "telling [me] a funny story" and it's actually so beautiful, I wish I could bottle it and hold it forever. Your stories are, well, developing, but you've got some good stuff in the works - there's a lot of stuff about getting bad guys, having super powers, and playing tag with Daddy and Bubba. You're also very expressive with your hands and I hope you never lose that.

You consistently tell us that we're your best friends. I pray you, at whatever age you're reading this, are familiar with Smaug and that one single spear that pierced his hardened but vulnerable exterior. Sidenote: that's great analogy for motherhood - I feel like a dragon all the time, but like the one from Shrek who could be cool but also blew fire when she was pissed. Anyway, in a hard moment, because I have those often in this era of my life, when I hear your sweet little voice say, "Mama, you're my best friend" - that is my Black Arrow. You're also very into big hugs and little hugs, which is exactly what it sounds like. I have to hand you super powers to get you to do anything you don't want to do, because you always blame your reluctance on "not having [your] super powers."

You jump more than I ever knew a person could jump. I actually would not be surprised if you held some kind of world record for most jumps in a day. You sometimes hop instead of walking. If you're getting on or off, you're not stepping - you're jumping. We went to a trampoline park for your birthday. You just love the trampoline park, and you were so pleased. You also got a trampoline at home for your birthday. (Please don't make me regret it, Evel Knievel). You are literally so into jumping right now that I guess we unintentionally made your birthday party theme your absolute favorite activity - jumping.

You still love tractors, but you've also expanded your passion to include any and all vehicles. The number of wheeled toys in this house at any given time is actually wild to try to quantify. Just for fun, let's say there's 100 toy cars here at any given moment, which is being conservative in my opinion. That's 400 tiny wheels. Feels excessive.

You love to play outside. You're unphased by any weather which is both suspicious and auspicious. You love to climb and dig and run. All I have to do is ask you to run and you're in the wind. You love to ride your bikes, dump truck, scooter. If it's got wheels, you're into it.

You're quite the cuddler. You love to relax on the couch (a nice evolution) and watch some TV. Granted, the TV is YouTube videos with toy cars and children's music, but I'll take what I can get. You give the greatest hugs and love to kiss me on the cheek. You tell me, "It's okay, Mama" when you see I'm having big feelings, and I pray you talk to yourself like that when you're having big feelings.

You're quite the player. The last few weeks, you and Daddy have been jousting with some giant pillows before bedtime. Before bedtime is always crazy with you, Bubba, and Daddy. On any given night, you all could be found hunting bad guys, spraying spiderwebs, running to and from getting tickled. You and Daddy have some secret thing about Ninny Nonnies but you two seem to have that under control. I'm not really sure if they're good guys or bad guys. I digress. You're so silly (at the best and worst of times). You're always wanting everyone around you to be happy because it makes you happy. Sometimes you do weird shit, like put a bucket on your head and call yourself a bucket head.

You're such a good big brother. You absolutely adore LJ, even when he's irritating the life out of you, and he does that on purpose a lot. I'm sorry to tell you but I don't expect he's going to totally grow out of that. You're doing this funny thing now where if you and Bubba are playing and he gets a little hurt or whiney, you start petting him and nervously saying "It's okay, Bubba" but it feels like you're saying "please don't tell Mom and Dad." You two are thick as thieves. I can't even begin to put into words how beautiful it is to watch the relationship you two share blossom. It's like a sunset and a sunrise at the same time. It glows, like bioluminescence. It's like watering a plant that you can't see grow, then you wake up one day and it has the most beautiful flower that came up seemingly overnight. It's laughter that hits my cerebral cortex like a drug. It's an unspoken language that can't be hacked. It's quiet and loud, strong and soft, consistent and unpredictable. It's contagious but can't be contained. There are moments, my son, where I am brought to tears by you and your brother, and they are more often than not happy tears. Crying is something we do, and when they are happy tears, there is no greater joy. The love you two share makes my heart feel like it might explode.

Other days, it feels like I've known you my entire life. Looking back on who I was before I became a mother feels like reading someone else's autobiography. I remember that life, I remember who I was, but her and I? We are not the same. It's like she's gone. That's not a bad thing. She had a lot of shit she needed to fix. She chased highs in the wrong places and stepped into more lows than she knew how to handle. She had a fragility about her that I no longer know. Knowing you has fortified me. The person I am now did not exist prior to November 27, 2022, and then on that fateful day at 11:40pm, I became her. I think that's why it feels like I have known you forever. The woman I am has never existed without you. The patience I have, the softness I aim to carry in my every word, every action - it was not one I knew before you. The depth of love my heart carries in any given moment was a concept I couldn't even grasp.

I see so much of myself in you. Sometimes it scares the shit out of me, honey. You have my eyes, my grandfather's eyes, my mother's eyes, my grandmother's eyes. I look into those eyes and I see the past and the future collide. You have my big feelings. That's probably what scares me the most. My feelings can be overwhelming and it makes me a little sad to tell you I still, at the ripe age of 34, have not figured out how to always navigate them with grace. It scares me because I want you to be able to do what I can't. How do I teach you what I don't know? I see some of my people pleasing tendencies, which can be sweet, but it can go too far. I pray I am able to help you find a way to balance your talent for reading people with a deep sense of self so you don't lose yourself in the hard plots life will throw your way as you grow.

I see so much of your dad in you. You have his bravery and boldness. You have an ability to create a plan - a valid, actionable plan - based off little information and see it through to the end. You stand up for the people you care about without hesitation. You have a resilience that can't be created or taught. You get upset, you get frustrated, and yet you do what you need to do, how you need to do it, when you need to do it, in the way you need to do it. You don't allow your big feelings to consume you like I do mine. You get that from your daddy. You have his smile - especially when you're being cheeky. You both have a smile that says "I know something you don't" and it's so transparent that I immediately know that's what's on your mind. It's always been one of my favorite things about your dad. He'll be silly, trying to bullshit a bullshitter, with that cheeky grin, and it's just so funny when I point it out and he denies it, but it just keeps growing the deeper we go into lore. You do the same thing and you both are just tickled by your own silliness. It's a beautiful thing to see in one person, let alone two.

I see traits in you that can be wielded as a weapon or a tool. I see stubbornness in you. I see intuitiveness. I see your fastidiousness. It's our job, your dad and mine, to help you navigate these God given traits into what propels you forward, not what holds you back.

Stubbornness can be drive or it can manifest in refusal to move. One day, we'll see your stubbornness transpire as tenacity (and there are moments I see this happening now). As you grow, I hope you open yourself to different ways of thinking. Our brains are funny - they tell us that the ideas we create are the best, but they're only the best we can conjure. Greatness is not attributed to one thought, one person, or one action. It's effort, consistency, and collaboration that make things truly great.

I pray you always trust your gut, but not always that voice in your brain. Sometimes, our brains will say crazy shit. It just happens. We want to trust it but motivation is not easily derived when it's emotion based. I pray you are surrounded by people who feed your ability to listen to your heart and lift you up. I pray that when your intuition is challenged, you have the ability to reflect and make an intentional decision to move forward or pivot, not for the sake of your ego, but instead for your best interest.

I pray your fastidiousness drives you to be great, but not insane. I live with a similar level of meticulousness, but I know firsthand it can be consuming. I pray you find a way to balance your vision of perfection with what it looks like in reality, because honestly, those two things rarely intersect. I pray you use your talents to better yourself and others rather than focusing on accomplishments for the sake of accomplishments.

I pray for you every moment of every day. I have never felt such pressure or privilege as I have being a mother - being your mother, being Bubba's mother. I have never had such motivation or crippling fear. I have never known myself better, and I have never looked at the face of a stranger in the mirror more than I have in these last three years. Every tear, every breath, every hug, every kiss, every laugh, every grunt in frustration - every single moment we have shared is threaded throughout my very core, and it has only made me more of who you need me to be.

For this third year, here is what I am hoping you always know:

• There is no thing in this world you can do that will negate the love your dad and I have for you. There will be times we fight, cry, or feel disappointment, but there will never be a time where we love you any less than we do right in this moment. Our love for you grows every day. It's likely I can't even comprehend how much I will love you by the time you are old enough to read this.

• There is nothing in this world you cannot do. Never let the fear of perceived failure stop you. Right now, you look an imaginary bad guy in the face and you shoot him with spider webs, or throw a quick kick or punch, and you never back down. That is a part of you, my boy. Whether the threat be real or perceived, there is not one thing in this world you cannot defeat. You'll keep learning when to fight and when to not. If you feel it's worth the effort, trust your gut, because that's God telling you you're on the right path. Bravery cannot exist without fear. Never deny the fear, and never let it control you. A few years ago, MoMo filled out a notebook with life advice for me, and I was reading it last night. On one page, she wrote "only dead fish go with the flow." Just because the current wants you to go one way doesn't mean that's where you're supposed to be, and the pushback doesn't have to be a warning, but instead it can be a validation of your direction.

• In any given moment, our lives will feel like they are the most complicated they have ever been and ever will be. This is not a unique experience. You are kind and your heart is so full of love. Be kind to others. They're in a different boat on the same rocky ocean as the rest of us. Be kind to yourself, too. It's okay to feel sad, to want to cry, to want to scream. It's okay to let that wash over you. Just make sure you don't wallow in it. Lean into the people that love you. I promise that between your parents, your grandparents, your brother, and your friends, there will be no shortage of people who you can safely release those feelings with, and who will pull you out of it when it turns into quicksand. You have a huge heart. I pray with all my heart it never callouses.

Happy birthday, our beautiful boy. Thank you for making this life more beautiful than I could ever imagine.

I love you

Forever and always

Together and apart

Mama