Dear Harrypotamus (yes, that is what we called you),

If you are reading this, you are now a big boy, and probably annoyed when I try to kiss your cheeks all over, or smell your hair.  It’s too bad.  It was the highlight of my day, every day.

Even now, as you are a little man of only 19 months, there are so many things to worry about when I cannot be with you.  Are the teachers giving you enough attention?  Do they hug you when you cry?  Do they make sure you have enough vegetables to eat?  Are the other kids picking on you?  Have they found that little biter who keeps leaving marks on your back?  Do you miss your mommy?  Are you lonely?  Are you afraid?

These are the nagging thoughts of my day.

You are likely also annoyed by my overprotectiveness and my tedious desire to know about every aspect of your life.  Try to be patient with your old mom.  It was a major struggle to bring you into this world.  I never thought I would ever have the chance to meet you.  Now that you are here, you are an even more fascinating and wonderful person than I ever imagined you would be.  I miss your company when you are not with me.

Because you are my little miracle, my little angel.  If I had my way, you would never know pain, never know rejection, never know loneliness or fear.  If I could take all the blows of life for you, I would step between you and adversity without a second thought. 

When I say “this hurts me more than it hurts you”? 

Believe it.

Love,

 Mom.