Now

December 10, 2008

How do I love thee, Sami G?

Let me count the ways.

Let me start this 3rd birthday tribute by declaring that you are the sweetest being I’ve ever known.  I still have many days when I look at you in wonder and amazement.  I can’t believe you’re my son.  How did I get the privilege of your company in this life of mine?  You’re my buddy.  We’re a package deal, you and I.  A dynamic duo.

The other day we worked on a big puzzle together, and it felt so good to be engrossed in a project with you.  We both made that silly oh! oh! oh! noise we make when a puzzle piece has snapped into another.  That “oh! oh! oh!” of satisfaction that we got it right. 

“We’re a team,” I said, and you agreed.

There is nothing better than hearing your little voice call out “I love you, mama.”  or when I say “I love you,” you say, “I love you, too.”

You’re obstinent, and cantakerous, and downright grumpy at times.  It’s ok.  So am I.  You had to get it from somewhere.  You throw yourself down on the floor in Target and in parking lots and I have to admire your commitment to whatever ideal you’re fighting for. 

Now you’re at the age of “why?”  You ask “why” and sometimes I have the answer.  Sometimes I don’t.  Hope that’s ok with you if mama admits she doesn’t know much.  In fact, the older she gets, the less she knows, it seems.  Maybe some day you’ll understand where I’m coming from on that.

You also are beginning to define the world for yourself.  You argue with my characterization of things.  I admire that.  Today, I put The Sippy Cups on the car stereo, and you said, “that’s not The Sippy Cups.”  I have already learned not to argue with you when you have taken a stance. 

You don’t miss a thing.  Tonight we were reading this book about dinosaur eating habits that you love to read before bed, and I accidentally missed a page.  You caught on immediately and demanded that I turn back to the Herrerasaurus page.  Me, being an old and slow adult, did not know initially what you were talking about, but sure enough, I turned back a page and there was Mr. Herrerasaurus. 

I think what I will remember most about you at this age is that you can SANG.  You are always singing.  When you are playing around randomly, you loudly sing songs to yourself.  My favorite might be your awesome rendition of “Skinnamarink a-dinky-dink.”  You also like to sing songs like “Get up and Dance” which involve the names of all your classmates at school.  Other favorites are “Willoughby Wallaby Woo.”  And you’ll tolerate mama’s weird music like The Killers  or Sigur Ros.  Recently you sang me the chorus ofToni Braxton’s “You’re Makin’ Me High.”  You love that part when she sings, “baby, baby, baby, BAY-BEH!!!!!!”

Your favorite food is kubideh and rice at Moby Dick’s House of Kebab.  They know us there already!  You love to sprinkle the red sumac on the rice - you call it “sauce.” 

And your laugh, your open-mouthed, put-your-whole-soul-into-it laugh.  Your laugh is, simply, divine.  It rises to the heavens and the angels are cracking up along with you.

You’re a tremendously cuddly fellow, for which I am ecstatic.  You are always requesting hugs and kisses.  “I wan’ snuggle” is one of your most common requests.  I am so glad to oblige.  Tonight, I kissed you on your forehead, your eyelids, your nose, your cheeks, and your chin, in that order.  You then asked for an Eskimo kiss, and - twist my arm - I gave you several. 

Five days a week, I have to leave you at school to go to work, but the best part of my day is when I pick you up downstairs.  You see that I have walked into the room and tackle me in a gigantic hug.  What a joy to reunite with you.

I want so many things for you:

I want you to love yourself completely, unconditionally, totally.  To be sure of my eternal and everlasting love for you.  To feel strong and secure upon this earth.  For you, I wish safety to feel and to be all that you are, without shame.  I want you to learn to ride the waves in this life, with all the dignity you can muster.  I want you to trust in the unfolding of things, the grace raining down always, no matter how strange or tough they might seem.  I want you to always remember to sing your way through this life.  These are mostly things I want for you and me both.  Mommy is still learning.  Never mind, we will work on them together.

Happy birthday, Sami G.  You are hands down the coolest three year-old person I’ve ever met.  I’m so un-freaking-believably blessed, well words just don’t even touch it.

Big love, huge, bigger than all the solar systems and universes we can possibly conceive of, love,

Yo’ mama!