Dear Harpie Jr,
Well, Momma messed up already. Turns out that I lied last week about your size; in actuality, you are a wee sweet pea this week! I’d love to take the blame for it, but I am afraid you must shoulder this one, sweet pea — you are sucking Momma’s brain straight down to her uterus, leaving her with NO memory or…what’s that word? Focus? Is that a shiny object on the wall….is it my watch….my rings….
Wait. Where was I? Oh, yes. Momma lied. But you’re going to have to deal, because in a few years, I’m also going to tell you that a fat man in a red suit flies on reindeer, breaks into our house, leaves you presents, & isn’t a pedophile. You cannot know the guilt Momma will feel whenever she lies, even though it is all for fun & your enjoyment. Kind of like the guilt I have suffered all day because instead of feeding you meatloaf & salad last night, we had a meal of kettle-cooked potato chips & ice cream. Which you obviously did not like, since the grand tally of yesterday’s puking was 19. I suppose a mother’s guilt knows no bounds, as it started last night…wondering if I should go eat some salad, even though I was stuffed, just so you could have some leafy greens.
But HJ, I bask in the guilt because I am your mother. I get to be your momma. Out of all of the women out there, God hand-picked me for you, & vice versa. It is a heavy & daunting honor, but one that I gladly accept for the remainder of my days. Because for the rest of my life, I am a mother to the BEST baby in the world. & I know we will make an incredible story together.
I love you always.
Love,
Momma
