Happy seventh birthday Judah. I wish that I could stop time sometimes. You are growing so fast and sometimes it makes me a little bit sad. I hope you know just how much I love you and how very proud I am of you.
You are seven going on fifteen. You are wise beyond your years my love and I love watching you analyze things. You spend your days asking question after question. Sometimes you drive me mad and we have mandatory quiet time.
Right now you LOVE pizza, spaghetti and breakfast food. You could live on those three things. You just finished up soccer, I think you’re gonna be my little sports fanatic. Chris bought a tackle dummy and you mess with it EVERYDAY when you get home from school. You like school and have found your love for reading. I make you read out loud for homework, but really I just love listening to you read. Your best friend in the whole world is your cousin Abel. You ask on a weekly basis for him to come over. You guys are two peas in a pod.
I love you to the moon and back my love. Thank you for being such an amazing son.
Love. Mom ❤️
You know what’s crazy? Just how unpredictable life is. If you’ve followed me for a while, you know just how much I went through to have my little man. Sometimes I look at him and my heart breaks knowing he won’t be little forever. I still remember the feeling the moment I heard his heart beat for the first time. I remember sitting across for the fertility doctor, having him tell me “it worked”..”you’re pregnant”. I couldn’t imagine my life without him. This little boy is a part of my heart.
He will be 7 next month. 7 years old. Somedays I feel like super mom. I can do it all. Those days everything just falls into place. Dinner. Done. Homework. Done. Shower. Clothes ready. Teeth brushed and in bed by 7:55. Done. Well done mama.
Then there are the other days. I drag. I’m in a fog. I’m tired. Drained from a long day at work. Those days, I feel like shit. A bad mom. A moody, bitchy mom who can seem to get her shit together. Don’t get me wrong. I try. But I fail. I get frustrated easily. My patience wears thin.
Last September, my little man was diagnosed with ADHD combined type. For years, I sat back and watched. Angry at others for how they saw my baby. How they labeled and judged him. How dare they. Daycare was hard. There were notes. And sideway looks when he was younger. He was never the “bad” kid. Just the active one. They one who during movie time crawled around the room and pretended he was a dinosaur. The climber. The Daredevil. The questioner. The talker. I guess in the back of my head I kind of knew.
Fast forward a few years and here we are. The start of first grade was as rough as kinder. Note about talking, not sitting still etc. We knew we had to do something. Making that call to see a specialist was hard. Admitting to myself that he needed more help than I could give him was even harder.
But we did it.
I am so happy that we did. The medicine didn’t fix Judah. It just bridged a gap. He is so smart and I’m so proud to be his mom.