You are becoming quite the little boy now. 

And slowly, my fears are shrugging themselves from my shoulders. 

My tension is releasing. 

The fear of doing you wrong. 

The fear of raising you wrong. 

The fear of the error. 
I know now. 

You’re quite okay. 

As perfect as perfectly okay can be.
So I seek less outside approval. 

I listen less to their judgment of you.
The questions of daycare, yes or no, firmer or softer, greens or chips, parks or iPads. I let these all rest. 

For my sweet, you are perfectly okay. 

You are more than okay. 
You are the little man who wakes up, seeks me from room to room till you find me. 

You are the little man who giggles to find my sleeping form in bed. 

And the first thing you do before you start your day, is snuggle to me.

For a fleeting moment. 
Before you’re off. 

To be you. 

To be wonderfully okay. 

Thanking you for your little gestures of love, so massive to a mother, they feel as radiant as the sun on my back on a Saturday afternoon in November, by the sea wall staring at the tide and feeling the salty spray. Thank you.  

With love, 

Your maa.