Ashley Spaulding » Blog

Dear Bubba ~

In last month’s letter, I wrote to you about how you had been kind of a tough little stinker for quite some time.  I’m happy (actually, no, I’m elated) to report that that phase seems to be behind us for the most part.  And, just so you know, I’m fine with it not coming back for awhile…or ever.

I know that stinker phases are just a part of life, but I have to say that it sure has been nice to have you back to your smiley, happy, funny, good-natured little self.  It’s wonderful to see you laughing all the time again.  It’s fantastic to see you enjoying life and generally having a good time every day again.  And it’s awesome to see you coming up with the hilarious comments and one-liners you’re famous for once again.

You’ve had a lot of great commentary about things lately, but something you said just this week particularly made me smile.  We were making cards for your teachers for Teacher Appreciation Week.  You were talking about how much you liked Teacher Appreciation Week, and even hearing you speak the word “appreciation” made me smile.  You asked me what I thought other kids were going to be making for you for Teacher Appreciation Week, so I explained that they wouldn’t be making anything for you and that the week was to show appreciation towards your teachers.  That perplexed you a bit, so you clarified with me to make sure you were hearing things right, “So my friends aren’t making me anything?”  At that point, I tried to burst your bubble as gently as possible by reiterating that you weren’t getting anything and that this week was for your teachers.  You thought about that for a minute.  The wheels turned.  Your brain processed.  And then you simply asked, “When’s Kid Appreciation Week?”

Welcome back, Bubba.  It’s so nice to see *you* again.  I love you (and your precious commentary), my little bud.

Love,
Mama

I am so honored to be participating in this Letters to Our Sons project with so many amazingly talented photographers and moms.  These monthly letters and photographs are our way of honoring our special boys and letting them know how much we cherish them, so please follow the circle of links and visit the blog of the very talented, Bre Thurston.  Be prepared for super cuteness, too…Bre’s little man is simply adorable, just like his mama.

Dear Bubba ~

Of all the things I’m going to miss about this time in my life when I’m older, your giggle’s right up there near the top of the list.  Seriously.  That giggle of yours is Awesome with a capital A.  It’s absolutely  infectious from the second it starts.  Whether I’m sitting at the computer or racing around getting you and C ready for school or folding laundry, and no matter whether I’m feeling tired or crabby or stressed or already super happy myself, your giggle always manages to stop me in my tracks and take notice of the pure joy you’re experiencing at that very moment.  Honestly, your giggle could make the Grinch crack a smile, even when his heart was still two sizes too small.

The sheer sound of your giggle is what makes it so Awesome, but I also cherish the sound because it makes me so happy to know you’re such a happy kiddo.  It didn’t always used to be that way, you know!  You were not too sure about this big world at all for your first seven months here.  Quite frankly, you were miserable.  You cried.  A lot.  And you rarely smiled during your initial ‘getting to know the world’ phase.  So to hear your giggles all the time and to realize how you’ve pretty much done a complete 180-degree change over the last several years truly makes my heart feel like it’s going to burst from happiness.

I love and appreciate that you fill our home with the sound of your giggle so often, like the other day when the idea struck you to use one of your blocks as a phone.  You had a ball “calling” mama on your block phone and thought it was so hilarious that you even got Teddy in on the action.  In this technology-driven world where ‘more is more’ seems to have replaced the ‘less is more’ mantra, I love that a simple wood block elicited such a happy, giggly response from you.  If only I could bottle that giggle up and carry it with me forever, I would be one elated mama.  Then again, I already am one elated mama thanks to you and sissy and the fact that you’ve made it possible for me to share my life with two amazingly special little beings (and their equally amazing daddy, of course!).

I love you, my giggly snuggle bug!

Love,
Mama

I am so honored to be participating in this Letters to Our Sons project with so many amazingly talented photographers and moms.  These monthly letters and photographs are our way of honoring our special boys and letting them know how much we cherish them, so please follow the circle of links and visit the blog of my talented friend, Megan Cieloha.  She documents her boys in such a sweet way, and I’m so excited to see her love for them shine through her photos even more when she adds another little guy to her crew later this year.

Dear Bubba ~

2013.  A new year.  A new start.  A new beginning.  When January 1st rolled around, I started thinking about this month’s letter to you and what I wanted to say.  I got to thinking about how the start of each new year holds so much hope for great things and all around “newness” for so many people.  And then I got to thinking that great things and all around newness are basically the foundation of your life.  At four, a new year probably doesn’t hold a whole lot of meaning for you because everything’s already new, and – more importantly – everything’s already great.

In your four-year-old world, you encounter novelty all around you every day.  And you explore all of that novelty to the fullest.  We had a snow day not too long ago, and it was so much fun to watch you take it all in (figuratively and literally…I think you consumed about five pounds worth of snow while we were out!).  I loved watching you try to figure out how to saucer your way down the hill…only to decide halfway down that you’d rather *eat* snow than slide into our backyard on it.  Sissy tried to teach you how to make snowballs, and it was so cute watching you work hard to pack that snow together to form the most perfect snowball ever.  Seeing you catapult yourself to the ground to make snow angels made me laugh each time…and watching you stop to catch snowflakes on your tongue mid-angel made me laugh even harder.

Your curiosity about life is simply the best.  Your little brain is always working, always conjuring up the most insightful questions.  Just today you asked me, “Mama, did I used to be in your tummy?”  When I responded that you did, you paused for about 10 seconds and then asked, “Did I have a bed in there?” Pure goofball, through and through, I tell ya!  I love, though, that you wondered where you slept when I was carrying you in my tummy.  I love that something as simple as catching snowflakes on your tongue brings you as much happiness as my morning coffee brings me every day.  I love that everything in life is new to my four-year-old sweet boy and that you embrace the novelty with so much happiness and curiosity.

As we welcome 2013, I think about all of the things you love so much right now – Legos, your landfill, writing your name, your big sister, chewing gum, Blue Boo/Lambie/Mr. Frog, talking about anything related to “tooting,” and your blocks.  I think about those things…and I wonder if that list will be filled with entirely “new” things at this time next year (although, I’m gonna go out on a limb and predict that toot humor will be on your list for many years to come, and I hope Sissy will always be on that list, too!).  Whether it’s all new next year or much of the same, I look forward to seeing what lies ahead of us this year.  With you along for the ride, I know I’m guaranteed a year of fun exploration, lots of hugs and snuggles…and definitely some toot talk!

I love you to pieces, my little Bubs!
Mama

I am so honored to be participating in this Letters to Our Sons project with so many amazingly talented photographers and moms.  We live all over the globe, and I haven’t even met most of these women in real life, but we all have common threads nonetheless…we’re all photographers, and we all have sons we love to pieces.  These monthly letters and photographs are our way of honoring our special boys and letting them know how much we cherish them, so please follow the circle of links and visit the blog of the amazing Amy Lucy.  I am so fortunate to be able to call Amy a friend and even more fortunate that I get to meet her in person for the first time in just a couple weeks!  Amy is an incredible mom to three gorgeous kiddos, and the letters she writes to each of them are absolutely some of the most touching, heartwarming letters I’ve ever read.