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  • Writer's pictureKelsey Petersen


Someday,  I won’t have a panic attack when I misplace your pacifier.

I won’t be able to make you giggle by pretending to eat your feet. I won’t pick you up under your armpits and say, “Drip, drip, drip!” after pulling you out of your plastic pink bathtub. I won’t have to wind up the stuffed giraffe in your crib to play a lullaby so that you don’t cry when I walk out of the room. I won’t always smell faintly of spit up. I won’t hover outside your door when I hear you cry. I won’t rub your belly with lavender Johnson and Johnson before bedtime. I won’t be able to make you forget you got hurt by blowing raspberries. I won’t have to unwrap my tangled hair from  your tiny fingers.

Someday, I won’t have to wonder when your teeth are going to come in, or if your hair will be curly, or what your voice will sound like. Someday, I will tell you that I love you and you will say it back.  Someday, you will ask me how I met your dad. Someday, you will draw me a picture and I will hang it on the fridge. Someday, you will roll your eyes at me and I will send you to your room.

But for now you are my baby, and that means that I get to hold you close and smell your sweet baby smell and sneak into your room during my middle-of-the-night bathroom trips to stroke your chubby cheek.

I promise you that I will put down my phone more often and discover more ways to make you giggle. I promise that I will always read you a story before tucking you in, pray with you, and sing the Goodnight, Sweetheart song. I promise that I will teach you to give more than you take, to say sorry first, and to forgive quickly. I will teach you to be friends with people who are different than you, and to treat everyone with the kindness and goodness that I already see in you.

And it goes without saying, but I promise that I will always put being your mom at the top of my priority list because I love you so much, and that will never change.


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