Dear Noah

Dear Noah,

Right now you are three years old, and you make me feel so crazy every day that I wonder how you will ever grow up to be a normal person. You yell. You poop in your pants. You scream. You are offended by the word No. You cry and wail (sometimes for real, usually not). You hit. You lay down on the floor and say, "I want a new mommy." Today, you peed on the bathroom wall. You knew it was happening. You watched it continue to happen. You said, "My penis didn't want to be down."

At bedtime, you pulled me close and said, "I have two things to tell you. I love you and I need you." You hugged me hard and said, "I just love you so much."

I named you before you were born. I chose your name because to me it represented everything I wanted you to grow up to be. I wished for you to have strength and courage. Intelligence and sharpness. Persistence: a never-give-up attitude that would always end in success. I wanted you to be sure of yourself and of your feelings, and most of all, I wanted you to be a person who loves with everything he's got.

I know you drive me crazy now, because you are three, but I have a feeling you won't let me down. I have a feeling that somehow, you helped me choose your name and to know who you would be. It's who you are right now, already, today--and you are only three.

But of course, as you tell me every day, you are almost four.

I love you all the time, no matter what.

Love,
Mommy