My First Born

We’ve always had a tumultuous relationship. Even in utero he was a stubborn one. He sat straight up, refusing to turn down. That should have been my first signal that he would have a mind of his own, choosing his own path, not bending to the will of others (and by others, I mean me).  My first-born, my little rebel.

When I found out I was having a boy, everyone said oh you’re so lucky. Boys will always love their mommy. Boys always love mommy best. And on and on. So I prepared myself for this. For five months, I dreamed of all the things we would do together, snuggling, singing, holding hands, being best buds. I’d seen this play out with other friends that had boys and I just knew this would be the same with my little guy. And it is.

And it’s not. My boy is not a mommy’s boy. Yes, of course, he loves me, but for much of his first 2 and half years, he has been a little mini me to my husband. I watched with envy when he would look up at his dad with such adoration. I cried myself to sleep when he would kick and scream for daddy, telling me to leave his room. None of this was how I had imagined it. In a lot of ways, I got so caught up in what was not between us, that I started missing out on what we did and do have between us. And since having my second, I am realizing how fiercely I need to hold on to these moments.

I’m making a promise to myself and to him to spend special one on one time as much as I can. Just the two of us. Away from the constant neediness of his little brother and my divided attentions. We need time just for us and it’s up to me to make this happen. Even it means just sitting by the river watching the geese for fifteen minutes or telling stories before he goes to bed, I need to remember that he needs me just as much as I need him.

Ok, so we might not ever be this picture perfect mommy/son duo, the one that was sold to me as an expectant mother. He might always choose heavy metal when I want to listen to Moana. And he might always tell me sky is green when I say it is blue. But what I do know I will always have is the knowledge that my little boy is just who he is meant to be. He won’t fit inside any perfect little box any culture sets for him. And for that and a billion other reasons, I love him more than words will ever be able to express.

My Outfit: Yoga Top- Lucy, old similar here and here//Pants- Zella// K’s Outfit: Shorts- Zara (old, similar here)//T-Shirt-Old Navy//Shoes- Old Navy
Even here, he’s telling me that he is going to throw those rocks into the water, even though I said to not to get to close to the edge. “Yeah, mommy, I am.”
A little negotiation! Yoga in exchange for the park later.

My most freeing moment as a mom has been realizing that he is just going to do things his way sometimes and that’s ok! Like his own version of tree pose here! ha!

Even though, I wanted to do yoga with him I’ll take kisses instead. On his terms.


Some of my Fave Yoga Tops:

Yoga Pants I’m loving:

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