a letter to my son


I am confident that at your 21-months of age you do not quite have the ability to understand just how much things are about to change around here. Trust me when I say that in my 28-years of age, I can’t begin to comprehend it either.

When mommy talks to you about your baby sister and you give her belly hugs and big raspberry kisses, it melts my heart, while simultaneously breaking it knowing that my one-on-one time with you is going to be drastically reduced in the coming weeks.

I know that you’ll never remember your life as an only child. Uncle Nate is closer in age to mommy than your sister will be to you, and I have zero recollection of my life without him. As an adult reflecting on my relationship with my brother, I think that’s awesome. As a mother reflecting on my relationship with her son, I find this a little devestating.

When we spend time building tunnels and playing with trucks and jumping on the bed even though I’m supposed to tell you not to do that, I like to think that we are making memories you will cherish forever, when in fact, we’re making memories that only I will cherish forever because you’re still too young to remember these things.

You’re too young to remember us playing with crayons for the first time, to remember using mommy’s giant belly as a race car track, our “airplane” rides, hide and go seek games, and to recall our mornings spent couch cuddling while watching the Today show or an episode of Team Umizoomi.

You’re too young to remember singing the ABC’s in the car on our way to play gym class and you’ll never be able to recall how many times mommy kisses your face in any given day.

What I will remember most about our time before the birth of your sister is being in complete awe that we were slowly but surely figuring out this whole growing up thing together. I hope that as you get older you won’t look back and realize that your dad and I were totally winging it from day 1, but it’s been amazing that we’ve been able to navigate through infancy and early toddlerhood together without any major body or emotional harm.

I can’t promise that the coming months won’t be without feelings of neglect, and I take comfort in the fact that you won’t remember those feelings, no matter how crummy I think it is that you won’t remember the positive feelings, too. What I can promise you is that mommy will be trying her hardest to figure out life with 2 precious children – and that the birth of your sister will introduce so many great things into your life.

Having a sibling is one of the best things that I can even possibly describe. Even my negative memories of growing up with your aunt and uncle pale in comparison to all the positive ones – and the relationships we’ve established as adults is something I hold so dear to my heart. Even when we disagree, it comes from a place of love, and I don’t have any doubts that we’ll find a place of resolution in all of our arguments and go back to the light-hearted and loving friendships that have formed over the years.

When you’re little, your sister will try to play with your toys, mess up your towers and try tirelessly to keep up with you and your friends. All of these things will drive you crazy. That’s ok.

As she grows up, I hope you will help teach her to stand up for herself and not be afraid to get her hands dirty. Help her be strong and not take any shit from anyone – even when you’re the one trying to dish it.

Know that my love for you as my first born child is unparalleled, and that no matter how hard I fall in love with your sister and how many mother-daughter memories we may have that will be foreign to you, my love for you as my son will be steadfast and forever a safe place for you to land.

I can’t wait to see you as a big brother.




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