Dear Max,

I’ve been tired lately.  Daddy has been traveling more than he’s been home.  You and I both came down with the.horrible.preschool.cold.from.hell.  We’ve been sick, exhausted, and quite frankly, getting on each other’s nerves.  I told Baubee the other day, that if you knew the word “bored”, I’m sure you would’ve been using it this week.

Sometimes I feel like I suck at this Mommy thing.  I beat myself up about my parenting skills, and when I lie in bed at night after you’ve gone to sleep, I always wonder if I could’ve done better.  This morning you were SO happy to be at gymnastics class.  You listened, you ran up and said “Hi Teacher Just-ica, I WEADY for ciwcle time!”  His name is Justin, but your favorite teacher at school is Jessica, hence Just-ica’s new gender-bending name.  You managed to stay in circle the entire time.  You did the running/skipping/jumping exercises, and the eager smile on your face completely melted me.  I promise that we will do more things like this.  I promise that I will find more energy to run as fast as you do.

Every day, I tell you that you are “my best”.  When I first walk into your room in the morning, and you snuggle in my lap and ask me to read you a story.  “You are my best” I whisper.  When you run to me after preschool and throw your arms around my neck.  “You are my best boy” I say quietly in your ear.  When you sit next to me at the tiny diner on Main St.  “You are my best friend” I say, as I high-five you and you reach over to push all of the buttons on the juke box.  I watch you inhale two scrambled eggs with cheese, a Mickey Mouse pancake, three pieces of bacon, and half of my french fries…..and a chocolate milk….and I can’t help but laugh that you are the best.date.ever.

You are my best.  And I am trying my best.  I am doing the best that I can.

Sometimes late at night, when I can’t sleep, I look through the photos that I have taken on my phone.  The little moments that chronicle our long days together.  I am filled with pride when I am reminded of what a sweet boy you are, even when you think no one is watching.

These spaceships?  You made sure that there was a “Mommy” and a “Daddy” and a “Baby”.  And you called them “Honey”.  So we must be doing something right…


And then you…..

Which apparently, is just what boys do.

You are my best. You won’t eat popsicles. This is as close as you’ll get. Two seconds after I took this picture, you decided to use the popsicle as a guitar. And then I ate it.

You build train cities with your Daddy, and I love watching the two of you work together.  Then when Daddy leaves, I rearrange every.single.track….because shhhhh….I kinda like playing trains.  I mean, with you.



You look like this in the bathtub.


And wherever we go, you have your killer grin on.  You are kind, and you are friendly, and you are full of goodness and sweetness and curiousity.  I love every single day with you, even when I’m frustrated with myself for not having a better activity/craft/game/adventure planned.


I’m discovering that you are old enough to start making some of your own plans though.

There’s always important work to do.


So I guess what I’m trying to say Max, is that we’re figuring this whole parenting thing out together.

You are my best, and I promise you, that I will always bring you the best of me.





One Reply to “My Best”

  1. Kim, all mom’s go through this,. Am I a good enough mom; am I doing too much/not enough? Am I raising a good future adult? We just have to do the best we can and muddle through each day knowing we are doing the best we can.

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