|My baby is a crazy guy like the one in|
the book. This is him on the coffee
table (he's not allowed to ride it like a
surfboard but did anyways.
Have you read that book, Love You Forever by Robert Munsch? I remember reading this as a kid at story time, and I remember really liking it. I was able to fully recall the story (and song) decades later. It was one of the books that I really wanted to Bricklet to have so I ordered it for him. This post is basically about why I cry almost every time I read it.
In fairness, this story is one of more than a slight over-attachment. The mother drives across town in the middle of the night, breaks into her son's house, and rocks him. As an adult I find that creepy, and maybe think it would be a great premise for a horror movie. But I love the sentiment of the book, and that it's really about that eternal and unbreakable love between parent and child.
When Bricklet was a few weeks old several friends shared on Facebook the interview where he talks about how he wrote the story, and that the song was for two stillborn children him and his wife had. Holding my little squish, and knowing how scared I was before he was born that something would go wrong, and now that he was there in my arms something would go wrong, and that even though we had just met I could not imagine my world without him I became a basketcase. I was post-partum, overwhelmed with visitors, and having the feelings.
I didn't attempt to read him the story for a few months. One day, right before I went back to work, I had the brilliant idea to read him the book. I started and was weeping by page 2, and gave up at page 5.
Now he's a big toddler, he picks out his own books, so a few weeks ago he handed me Love You Forever. I managed to keep it together until the point where he moves out. The next few readings it transitioned to somewhere between him moving out and where his mom is sick (this part still gets me).
Bricklet must hate me. Because last weekend he decided this is his favorite book. And he wants to read to him 5 consecutive times. He doesn't know why mommy is crying. The upside is, I can now read it without my eyes leaking consistently. I still hit the points where I get choked up. But I can do it without being a total weirdo.
What I never expected about this book, and about being a parent, was just how much you love that baby. Bricklet is 18 months old and 100% toddler, but he's still my baby, and he will be when he's 2, 9, a moody teenager and a grown-up man. And I hope that we grow up to have a relationship that when I'm old and sick he will want to be there for me.
Although I promise to never break into his house. That's still creepy.