Bittersweet with a touch of guilt.

I could sit here and stare at this picture all day. All night. I want to cry. I want to scream. I want to ask for forgiveness and swoop him up and bring him into my room where I know he feels safe. I want to throw a tantrum and follow it up with a big bowl of mint ice cream with Oreos but I can't. I can't tell this sweet boy all the things that are going through my head. So instead I'll write. Maybe one day he can look back and read this and finally understand the battles of parenting.

I'm so sorry that I couldn't figure out a way for you to feel safe on your own yet.

I'm sorry that your imagination runs wild, so wild that you can't play by yourself. In the middle of the day. With sunlight flooding the house.

I'm sorry that you have a hard time channeling your energy. I bet that feels crazy inside at times.

I'm sorry your dad can't and won't be a part of your life. But I promise you it's for the best. I know this with all my heart and will explain if you need me to when you're ready.

I'm sorry I don't drive the big black truck you always say you wish we had. I want that too bud.

I'm sorry you never feel like you're home in our new house. I really thought I was doing it by getting a home big enough where you could finally have your own room.

I'm sorry that the dryer frightens you.

I'm sorry that the intercom system at school frightened you so badly while going to the bathroom one day, that you can't seem to find the courage to trust going to the bathroom alone.

I'm sorry my body and mind aren't always the strongest and it hinders the activities we're able to do at times.

I'm sorry for getting upset with you yet again today and raising my voice.

There's at least a million more things I could apologize for. But I'm most sorry for having you sleep in your room by yourself tonight. For the first time. As a punishment. You slept in a crib until you were two. But you never slept longer than an hour and a half, two if I was lucky. Until one day your Aunt Michelle suggested I bring you into the bed with me. That you may just need to be close to me. Wouldn't you know you slept through the night for the first time since you were born. And you've slept through the night ever since. Even when you nap, if I leave the room you wake up early. We share a bond sweet boy that no one on this earth can break. Except for me maybe, when I told you that I couldn't handle the way you treated me anymore and that you needed to sleep in your own room for once because well I just couldn't handle it anymore. That was absolutely awful. I know better than to take your behavior personally. I know that you hitting me in the back with a brown paper bag because I wouldn't let you have candy before dinner didn't hurt, or that it was the worse thing in the world. But it was the straw that broke the camel's back. And after fighting me to eat dinner, take a shower, and cleaning up your toys I was at a loss. I reached for the one thing I knew would bother you the most. Sleeping by yourself. Bedtime, sleeping by yourself, and frankly any other milestone should NEVER, I repeat, NEVER, be a form of punishment. What you're doing in there right now so peacefully, is something you should be proud of. Excited about. You are no longer a toddler. You have grown into a strong, intelligent and funny sweet boy. One who should be celebrating this graduation of sorts. But instead I robbed you of that tonight. I laid with you until you drifted off to sleep and then sulked all the way to my room. Feeling so guilty that I turned what should be a joyous occasion into one more thing for you to associate fear, bad behavior, and who knows what else with. But I promise you this son. Regardless of my stupidity and inability to properly discipline you, this one moment will be one you look back on and will be proud of. That even though you were scared and I had you sleep by yourself for the first time because I was mad, you did it. YOU. DID. IT. You were so brave. You laid there with your blanky white and drifted off to sleep knowing I wouldn't be staying in there. You were courageous. And YOU will be stronger for it. I just hope you know that even though I may not do the best job at raising you, that you still rise above and triumph. For I know that this milestone is one of the big ones. And instead of kindly guiding you there, I forced you in a way that I will never forgive myself for. I know I can't take back words. But I also know I have to follow through with what I say. Tomorrow is a new day and we will talk about what happened tonight and how you feel safest moving forward. But I wanted you to know exactly how I feel. That I feel so much guilt and sadness that I want to throw up. But I also feel pride for having a son that is so damn tough. You're going to be a leader Noah. I hope and pray I can raise you to be the right kind.

This night is bittersweet. With more than a touch of guilt. But this maddening mess of emotions I'm feeling is what parenthood is. It's messy. I'm not perfect. And I'm going to mess up over and over and over again. But I want you to remember above all, that I love you more than life itself. And time and time again I have chosen you. To do the best I can at giving you all you want and need. I want you to remember that once again you've shown me what bravery, courage, forgiveness and trust looks like. What peace in the midst of anger, immaturity and selfishness looks like. And I want to cry. But instead I'll wake up tomorrow and try again. I hope that you'll forgive me. Because I truly am sorry.

You're amazing Noah. Freaking amazing.

I'm beyond proud to be your mom.