Just now, I snuck downstairs and stood in your doorway, watching you sleep. One long, lean leg dangling off the edge of your toddler bed, one hand clutching your precious "gucky", the other wrapped around a Matchbox car, and always, always, wrapped around my heart.
Baby boy, tomorrow you will be three years old. How did that happen? How did the tiny imp, with hair like fire, become a big boy so quickly? You make me so proud, Matthew. Proud to be your Mummy, your safe harbour, your teacher, your student.
You are my greatest love, my most awesome challenge, sweet son. Thank you for choosing me, for making me a Mummy. You were my heart's desire - the wish I didn't even know I had. Three years later, you are my very heart, a gift...magic.
Thank you for your feisty ways, your wild temper, your songs during car rides and the way you hold my hand to your face as you drift off to sleep. Thank you for lessons in patience and kindness and for every time you turn to Luke and say, "That's right, Lukey! I'm so proud of you!"
You cannot know what it does to my heart to watch you grow into yourself. Today, during your birthday celebration, you wanted to give your presents to those who brought them - a sweet and loving gesture, so very typical of your nature. You are compassionate and sensitive and the world is a brighter place simply because you're in it.
Dear one, I know that I am not always right. Or kind. Or even fair. But you carry on and we muddle through anyway. I promise to always try to be the kind of mother you deserve and thank you for forgetting when I falter.
I love you.