A Letter to My Son || August Ransom

My dear son,

You've just turned two. In the busyness of finishing our home renovations, the mental anxiety and exhaustion of my second pregnancy, and the hectic mess of pulling together a party for you, I've not had time to sit and process you

With wonder, I call you my two year old- mostly to remind myself that you are growing and changing even as your brother is yet to be born. You develop daily and I cannot keep track of each new accomplishment. You now say your own name all day long "uh-oh Auguss!" Or "Play Auguss" You make a shocked face now that is adorable (especially when you use it in defiance). You call our window air conditioning unit R2D2 and every morning you greet it "hi d2!" You wave to me from your crib "morning mumma. Out!" You run laps in the yard giggling "fast" as you race by. When you want me to play, you say "up pleez mumma" and your favorite activity is playing in the car. You hide in our closet curtains and chase your daddy with a sword. You build cardboard forts and imitate all the noises- trucks, sirens, ducks, echoes in the church stairway. You've attached yourself to Sneezy in a whole new way and have really increased your imaginative play. Last night, you told Sneezy to close his eyes for prayer and proceeded to cover his eyes with his paw. If you spot a panda in a book or on a restaurant sign, you repeat "Sneezy! Sneezy! Sneezy!" until we acknowledge you. You climb the steps to our bed, tell me I'm being too loud and "read" books on your own. 

My least favorite battle with you is food. You hardly eat four bites per meal and straight up refuse any negation attempts. But you love breakfast food, calling it all "cake" (pancakes, muffins, waffles). And your fruit obsession continues so I try to not stress and offer you broccoli at dinner, hoping one day you will eat it. 

You light up when your daddy arrives home from work and you ask about him throughout our days. Weekends together are our favorites. Your bond with him by Sunday evening is made evidence by your continual Monday inquiries of "daddy home?"

You respond to discipline with such sweetness that I'm encouraged to pray your heart would stay soft forever. I have many prayers for you. I pray for your wife that she would love and value you as a man of God. I pray for your friends that they would direct you to the right path. And ultimately, I pray for you to know our Savior intimately and to love Him as none other. 

More immediately I pray that your love for your brother would overflow: that you would be his fierce protector and best friend; that you would play and teach and live in peace; that your family would be a safe harbor for you amidst the doldrums and storms of life. 

I cherish you completely. You are my heart. You have my heart. And this love I have is nothing like our Father's. Walk in the bravery His love provides. 

Forever your mumma. 

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