Letting Go

Ham sleeps with his little plastic tools. He pretends to fix things with and carries them around all day. When he's tired he wears his blanket on top of his head and runs into things. He loves steering wheels and buttons. He doesn't really ever sit still. The first ten minutes of "Curious George 2: Follow that Monkey" make him laugh hysterically every time (and I still don't know why). He hates green vegetables and most protein. He can't drink juice because he'll vomit. Running water always makes him giggle. He doesn't like to be held or cuddled, but you always know he loves you. "Wa-wah" means waffles not water in our household. Waking up is always an occasion for celebration. His deep belly laughs can brighten any day. He only likes kisses on top of his head, and he hates mushrooms.

There are so many things to know about my son. How is a stranger going to learn all of these things with other several other kids? All of the helpful notes in the world will never be able to sum him up. He is a joy and a walking disaster all rolled into one pudgy bundle. Ham is my life, and I am so afraid to let him go even though I know that it is the right choice for us both.

How are they going to know that he hates regular sippies and is afraid of animal sounds? What happens if he wakes up from nap and cries because I am not there? What if they're mean to him or don't like him because he can't talk? How about if he feels abandoned or lonely? Will he think we love him less? Will he still love me?