2.

Dear Aubrey,

More than a few weeks ago, you turned 2 whole years old.  As I continue to write these letters to you, your brother and your sister on your birthdays, it continues to get harder and harder to fully describe not only how much I love each of you, but what truly makes you all so special.  

But, here goes:

You, my sweet child, are simply the best 2-year-old.  If I could, I would pause you, right now, at this exact age and just enjoy you for as long as I possibly could.  You are kind and patient and loving and hilarious.  You repeat everything that you hear, but twist it slightly so that everything coming out of your mouth sounds adorable.  You sleep hard and well, you handle everything we throw at you with ease.  You are flexible and go with the flow of our everyday crazy life.  You have transitioned so well from a baby to a child, I hardly even noticed it happening until one day I woke up and you weren't anything resembling a baby anymore.

I am not sure what is different with you, but something is unlike anything I experienced with your older siblings.  I don't know if it is just that you are simply that easy, that calm, that sweet.  Or, maybe it's that I am more relaxed, that I know not to get worked up about most "issues" that Mom's face with toddlers throughout the day.  In reality, it is probably a mixture of the two but whatever the reason, you and I add up to a pretty ideal pair.  This coming year we will get 2 whole mornings a week together, just you and I while both your brother and sister are at school and I am not at work.  I am so looking forward to being able to focus solely on you, something that doesn't happen nearly enough around here with the attention sucking siblings you live with.  I have so many amazing memories of my Mom and I, while your aunt and uncle were at school, bee bopping around (usually at Kmart) and how special being alone with her made me feel.  I remember feeling like the time I had with her was our special secret time, and I can't wait to make those same traditions with you.

I don't think I do this as much with your siblings, but with you, I find myself wondering about what you will be like as your grow up.  Maybe it's because just like you, I am the third and final child of the family.  I also came after an older brother and an older sister, just like you.  Whatever the reason, and as crazy as this is to think about a two year old, I have an irking suspicion that you are going to be a lot like I was as a kid and teenager. In some ways, it excites me as I feel like that might mean yours and my relationship will be strong and ultimately, this is what I hope for all you kids.  But in others, it worries me as I know all too well about the strong opinions I held, the emotions I unleashed randomly and the limits I pushed.

As sweet as you are, you definitely still have your moments.  And oh my goodness, your moments are dramatic.  But like the easy peasy child you are, when you start to freak out, you usually walk yourself to your room and close the door, where you can proceed to utterly freak out for the next 5 or so minutes until you calm yourself down.  It is then that I walk to your room and open the door, usually to be met with a "sooorrreeeyyy, mommy".  And once again, you remind me just how special you are.

My sweet, sweet, littlest child - you made everything complete.  From the moment I met you I knew a grand adventure was about to begin, and you have spent the last two years proving me right.  You fit in immediately around here and continue to mould and flex to your surroundings, as crazy as it gets around here sometimes.  You get carted around, from one event to another, happily and excitedly.  You are simply ideal.  Happy day to you, my sweet child.  I could not love you more.

Here's to you at 2 years new.

Love,

Mama
xoxo



**Here is your 2nd birthday interview that we shot today.  It is perfectly you.

4.

Dear Addy,

A few weeks ago, you turned 4 years old.  In the days leading up to your birthday I realized that I was having a hard time believing that you were actually going to be 4 - maybe that is why it took me so long to write this letter.  I don't have a hard time believing that you brother will soon be 6, or your sister will soon be 2, but you, my sweet girl, and your 4th birthday snuck up on me.

You are, and I am pretty sure will always be, my wild card.  You are still hard to predict and have a personality that keeps us guessing.  As much as I could sit here and write page after page on your sweetness and kindness, I could easily match it with your sass and fly-off-the-handle emotions.  You are a mixed bag, but it’s what makes you tick and what makes you, you. 

This past year, like each that came before it, you transformed.  You are such a girl now and have absolutely and completely left anything “toddler” in your dust.  You keep up with anyone and everyone, talking circles around them as you attempt to not only dominate the activity, but also the conversation.  You are tall, and for that reason, often get mistaken for substantially older than you are. Over the course of this past year, and probably for the next while as well, I had to remind myself that you were/are still little.  You cannot be expected to keep up with your older brother 100% of the time and always keep it together, like he has pretty well figured out how to do.  You were just three, and now you are JUST four, and in my books, that gets you a freak out or two at your discretion.

This past year I read a book that contained the line “…she isn’t just a challenging part of my day, she is her own person, with her own days.  Some of those days are harder than others, like mine.  I’m noticing her more.”  This message has been tattooed on my brain since the day I read it.  It simply spoke to me and to the relationship that you and I share.  Because you see, my sweet girl, we can sometimes struggle, you and I.  And it helps me to remember that just like I have off days, so do you.  And quite honestly, you probably do a better job of rallying on those rough days than I do. 

Addy, my middle one, my spitfire and my light – you are going to do amazing things.  People flock to you, strangers fall in love with you, people listen when you talk.  Now, some may say that that is all because you don’t give people any other choice, but regardless, you are going to thrive.  As your Grandpa would say, the world needs more assertive young women and you fit that to a tee.  You are strong, thoughtful, kind and generous.  You are also emotional, dramatic, loud and exhausting.  But it’s the balance that works and I wouldn’t change you if I could.  But where my job comes in is not in changing you, but in molding you.  You have so many amazing traits already and I know that with time will come the growth that will make you into the game changer I know you can be and want to be.  Because nobody is made with a spirit like yours to sit on the side line. 

So to you, at 4 – You are happiness in all of its definitions, in all of its forms. And because you won’t stay this little forever and instead will run head first into the burning building of what it means to grow up, I’ll just look forward to the bumpy ride. Just promise to take me with you.

Love to you, my girl, my light, my joy.  Happiest x4 and for forever.

Love,

Mama

xoxo



 

5.

Dear Colin,

A couple of weeks ago, you turned 5 years old.  It's hard to believe that it has been five whole years since you came (so quickly!) into the world.  Although I don't remember all the details of the last five years, I know that you have filled them with some of my best and favourite memories of all my 32 years here.

This past year was a gooder.  You have truly transformed into a wonderful child, a super fun boy and a just a great all around kid.  This year will be the year that goes down in the timeline of your life as the year you started school, the year you jumped off a 10 foot cliff into the lake, the year you started telling jokes (only some make sense), the year you rode a two wheeler, the year you fell in love with hockey, the year you really became you.

You don't really surprise me very often anymore.  I feel like I pretty much have you down pat.  You are naturally predictable.  You love routine and order and are happiest when everyone just follows the rules.  You are also sensitive and struggle being kind to your sister from time to time (but we're working on that).  You love to learn - about anything and everything anybody will teach you.  You are fascinated by how things work and have a naturally inquisitive mind.  You have very quickly figured out that many of your questions are better asked to your Dad as this is not a trait that you and I share but you and your Dad ,you are made for each other.

Somewhere along the way this past year you learned that it's ok to take a risk or two in life and step outside your own comfort zone.  This did not always come easily to you.  You needed a LOT of prep before any changes or new things and even then did not always deal with them very well.  This past year though, something shifted.  All of a sudden you realized that you can have a lot more fun if you just let it ride.  And boy did you ever.  There were multiple times this past year where you Dad and I looked at each other in disbelief over what we just experienced.  Case in point was this summer at Tulabi Falls.  One night we watched some teenagers jumping off the same cliff that I used to with my friends each and every summer.  You surely and confidentially announced that when we came back the next day, you were jumping.  I said ok, but I can't really say that I believed you.  But sure enough, the next day when we came back to swim at the beach you repeated your statement.  At this point, I thought you might be serious but again felt like when we got up there your tune would change.  So you and I marched up the hill and found ourselves at the top of the smallest cliff.  You were not hesitating for a second.  At this moment all the "could happens" started running through my brain and I started to hesitate as to whether or not this was a good idea.  But we had come too far - I couldn't back down now.  So, together, hand in hand, we walked to the edge, counted to three and jumped.  Not once did you stutter.  I still can't really believe that you did it.  So easily and so calmly without any convincing.  Let's all keep in mind that you were the three year old crying in the pool at swimming lessons any time you had to float on your back (among other reasons) and on this day, you jumped off a freaking cliff.  Your Dad and I were so proud of you for how brave and willing you were but also because it meant you were just growing up.  Because Buck, all this work we are doing as parents, all the sweat and tears is all for you.  There is nothing we want more than to see you grow, to mature and to become the game changing boy and man we know is inside of you.  It's our job to bring him out and when you jumped off that cliff I felt like we got just a touch closer.  Summer of Colin it was, and I am so grateful that I got to watch from the front row.

This past year, and I'm not proud to admit this, I found myself from time to time trying to sway you in other directions, trying to suggest different things to you, in a way, trying to change you.  You see my sweet boy, I doubt you will ever have any major academic struggles when it comes to you and school.  You love to learn.  You are calm and determined and smart.  The other side of school though, the social and friends side, scares the crap out of me.  There is nothing I want more than for that part of life for you to come easily.  I think for awhile I convinced myself that my suggestions would make it easier for you to make friends.  Maybe if you liked what all the other boys liked, if you played what all the other boys played with, if you watched what all the other boys watch your friendships would come smoothly and easily.  What I learned however was this: first of all, you needed no help making friends.  Even if what you liked, played with, talked about or watched was not the same as some of the other boys, that didn't matter.  They loved you and you loved them.  It took you no time to find your groove, you got right in there with the kids in your class and bonded.  Secondly though, and much more important, I realized that instead of trying to change you, I should be trying to be more like you. You, my sweet boy like everyone you meet.  You give everyone an equal shot.  You do not judge, discriminate or hold grudges.  You apologize instantly when you have wronged and forgive when others have wronged you.  You are what a true friend is made up of and I should be fostering that in you instead of worrying if we are up to date up on the latest trend.  Now don't get me wrong, I still hope and pray that you make amazing friends easily and that you find a few that you'll go the distance.  I have been so blessed to have found multiple life long friends and I can tell you from experience that they make all the difference in my life.  They are what makes life a bit easier when things get tough and a even more amazing when things are great.  But that being said, I definitely don't worry as much any more.  You are a sweet, wonderful, caring, compassionate, fun boy and that is too good a combination to go unnoticed.

You have no idea how proud you make me.  Just walking beside you makes me beam.  You are my kid and I wear that like a badge of honour.  You are going to do amazing things.  I never knew if I was going to get the chance to be a Mom.  It was something that I wanted, but more than that, that my heart needed.  You were the first one to give me that gift, to fill my heart up beyond measure, to change me so deeply and fundamentally for the better.  You broke me in as a Mom and continue to pave the way for your sisters so smoothly and so straighly.

This video/interview of you is a mess but I will treasure it always.  It is a snapshot in time of YOU and that means it's perfect. Someday long from now, I pray that I have the chance to watch these videos of you on your birthday and that they will transport me back in time to today.  And I will remember and all the hugs, all the "i love you's", all the Paw Patrol, all the "7-zero-zero" wakeups, all the "keep your hands to yourself" reminders, all the firsts and all the amazingness.

Bucky, happy happy happy happy happy to you.  You are my forever and my always.  My first and my bestest boy.

Love you to the moon and back x5,

Mama
xoxo

One.

Dear Aubrey,

I am more than a little late on this, but a few weeks ago you turned one year old. It's summer around here and we have been enjoying time as a family, getting house projects checked off the list, and trips to the lake.  But right now, I want to make sure I take some time to document you - today, at one.

Once again, blah, blah, blah, you are such an amazing baby.  I really feel like I have said this SO many times since you were born that it has lost a bit of its real meaning.  You continue to amaze me as on pretty much a daily basis you allow the craziness that is this household to go on around you and with you and you just role with it.  Our schedule is sometimes a little nuts and you come along and put up with it.  When your brother was your age I very rarely had him miss a nap.  This was partially due to the fact that I only had one child and really didn't have many reasons to have you miss it, but also because I just wasn't prepared to do it.  With you, we simply don't have that luxury.  Life did not stop when you were born, but rather seemed to kick into high gear.  As a result your schedule has had to be fluid and you have managed it with grace and ease.

At this point in your brother and sisters lives I pretty much had them pegged.  Although their personalities have moulded over the years, at one I knew what I was getting.  You, my littlest one, are still very much a question mark.  There are obviously things I know, but how they all play together to create YOU in the long run, is still a bit of a mystery.   So far I can say for sure that you are patient and you are easy going.  You also have a lot to say and I am so looking forward to your sounds to form words so I can finally understand your long winded stories.

But come on, you can't be all perfect, can you?  No ma'am, you can't and you aren't.  You have your moments and your tantrums, but they are few and far between.  What sets you off you ask?  Let me tell you as it won't take long.  A-D-D-Y.  You and your sister have a very interesting relationship.  She really does love you and desperately wants you around her all day long.  She is the first person to run to you when you come out of your room in the morning and the last person in your room before bed at night.  So yes, she loves you, but she also has trouble respecting your, umm, personal space.  She is way too close to you ALL THE TIME.  And you do not like it.  I don't blame you, but you really need to relax a bit.  At the end of the day she just wants to be with you and you just want to anywhere else.  In the past few weeks you have started to crawl (although I use that term loosely as it is really more of a heave/drag technique) and things have mellowed a bit - basically now that you can escape her.  Obviously she follows you around for awhile but inevitably the three year old in her gets bored/distracted/sees-an-opportunity-to-annoy-her-brother-instead and you are set free.  How your relationship with your sister progresses and changes over time will be so interesting for me to watch.  I know how my own relationship with my sister ebbed and flowed over our teenage and early adulthood years, however ultimately ended up and continues to be one of the most important and significant relationships of my adulthood.  I don't know where I would be without her and I rely on her support and advice so much.  Whatever happens between you and your sister along the way, as I think I would be kidding myself to think there would be no friction at times (I mean, come on, we're talking about Addy here :)) I hope that you two remain in each others lives.  It's really a gift to have a sister and I hope you two stick it out together.

Whether or not to have one more child really was one of the easiest decisions of my life.  Obviously it was for your Dad too as it was never something I had to convince him of either.  The fact that we got you out of the deal is almost too good to be true.  I love the three of you equally, but there is something special about you.  I think it is because I am so aware of how quickly kids grow up and for that reason I really soak you in on a daily basis.  I make a point of sitting with you while you drink your milk when at all possible.  And when you're done I turn you around and sit you on my lap and we chat and play until I can hear my services being needed elsewhere (ie. breaking up a fight between your siblings).  And because I know how quickly time goes I am not trying to rush it.  Instead, I just enjoy you, for the day it is, at the stage you are at.  And, my littlest one, the stage you are at is worth enjoying.  You love so sweetly and so calmly that it makes me fall more and more in love with you each and every day. Going into this past year, I really didn't know what to expect and wondered if I would make it out alive.  Not only am I still breathing, my heart is more full than I ever imagined it could be.  The three of you make what your Dad and I do on a daily basis more joyful, more rewarding, more than we ever thought we would ever be blessed with.  The addition of you to the life I call our Clarence Road Project has completed our family foundation.  Where we go and how we grow together is what's next and I could not feel luckier to be part of the crew.  You, my littlest one were the final piece and you have spent the last year proving why we needed you and why we fell in love with you from the moment we saw you.  You are my last and my littlest and I will hold that in my heart from now to eternity.  You have been so kind and so understanding of me, over this past year - I owe so much of my sanity to you.  In return, I can always promise - you will always be my baby and you will always be loved.  No matter what this next year throws at us, or the next 40 after that - those are my guarantees.  You make it so easy to love you, to want to be around you.  I will soak that in for every minute that it is my reality.  You are going to do magical things - I am sure of it.  Important things and meaningful things with your life.  Thank you for being you and for being my baby.  Thank you for making me a better mama, for making me slow down and enjoy and for teaching me how to work through the balancing act that is three kids.  Going into year two, I promise to keep looking for moments the two of us can share, away from the madness.  Where we can talk, re group and connect - just us.   It's time that I cherish and as long as you'll let me, I plan on sneaking it in whenever I can.

Here's to you at one year new.

Love,

Mama
xoxo

Month 11.

Dear Aubrey,

A few days ago, you turned 11 months old.  As your 1st birthday approaches, ever so near, I can hardly believe that before we know it we will be celebrating that milestone.  In some ways, I feel like we just met, but in others I can hardly remember you as a baby.  The past 11 months have at times flown by, however at times they have also dragged.  Having three little kids has proven wonderfully hard - just as having one and two children both were.  Let's be clear, you were meant to be part of this family.  In some ways, I always knew I would meet you one day, always knew that this household needed you, always knew that my heart longed for you, always knew that you were mine.  With all of that squared away, let's also be clear that your entry and your permanence has at times been difficult.  And this month, it seemed to be magnified...

I feel like you woke up a little this month.  All of a sudden you had opinions and you found your spunk.  To be fair, you were a bit sick this month so that may have attributed to your general moodiness however I don't think it was entirely a coincidence.  You have started to voice your needs and desires a little more loudly these days, as well as any displeasure.  This displeasure is most often directed at your sister (and for the most part I can't blame you) however I still haven't quite gotten used to it coming from you.  For the better part of 10 months, you were simply a pawn around here.  Able to go anywhere, flexible and a general team player but sometime this month things shifted.  I do attribute some of your frustration to the fact that you are still immobile.  You can slide/push yourself forward if you are motivated by raisins, however if that raisin is even a centimeter further than you feel you can move, you have zero desire to even try.  I can't decide if you do not possess the skills to move forward or if you are simply lazy.  In all honesty, it's probably a combination of both.  Third babies have many helpers, many small people who continually get things for them and many adults who dote on them and pick them up whenever they need.  At this point, 11 months in, I am somewhat ready for you to start exploring.  I almost cringe writing that, knowing what chaos a crawling baby can create, however your immobility is getting a little old.  You officially have my permission to start moving.  Now go!

It wasn't until this month that I really realized that I have 3 kids.  Obviously I always knew that the 3 of you existed and that I in fact birthed you all, but it wasn't until this past month that I truly realized what that meant.  It has dawned on me that not only do I have three kids, but that I also have 3 opinions, 3 personalities, 3 unique spirits to manage now.  At this point, basically at ground zero, that task seems a little daunting.  I want nothing more than to be what you need as a Mom, but just as much as I want that for you, I want that for your brother and sister as well.  And this is where it gets tricky, for what you need may not be what they need, and then how does that work?  How can I equally yet effectively manage, support and guide each of you?  At this point I have more questions than answers and if there was a perfect-parenting-3-children-guide I would have ordered it months ago.  But right along with all those questions lie just as many promises.  No matter how hard things get, how crazy you three make me, how busy our lives get, how pulled in a million directions we find ourselves, I promise that I will never stop trying to be everything that you need.  Let's just be clear here: everything you need may not always be everything that you want, but my sweet girl, I promise you that someday you will understand, just like I do when looking back on my own childhood.  I promise that every decision will be rooted in the very deepest of love, and even when I make the wrong decision or say the wrong thing, know that I am trying my very best.  That is the best I can promise you - I will always do what you need, I will always love you, I will always do my best.  You deserve nothing less, in fact, you deserve more than I could ever give you, but for now, let's just both bring our A games and I'm sure we will end up just fine.

Here's to you at 11 months new.

Love, 

Mama

xoxo

3.

Dear Addy,

A couple of weeks ago, you turned 3 years old.  Quite honestly, I feel like I have been waiting a LONG time for you to turn 3.  Maybe it's the fact that almost everybody guesses that you are actually 4 years old when they meet you.  Or maybe it's the fact that over the past year, you have truly and completely transformed.  When I watch videos of you from your 2nd birthday, I can hardly believe that they were shot only a year ago.  You just seem like such a baby back then, and today, today my sweet girl, you are anything but a baby.  You are a full blown, full emotion, full drama kid.

As I sit down to write this letter to you, if I am being honest, I am not sure quite where to begin.  Trying to describe you, trying to explain what you're like on this day, at this age, is harder than it was when your brother turned 3.  Because my sweet girl are what I like to call "a mixed bag".  While your brother was (and is) predictable, rational and calm, you are most definitely not.  You are so many wonderful, amazing things, but predictable, rational, and calm do not fit your bill.

You are a talker.  I kind of have a feeling that this trait may stay with you in the long run.  95% of the time, I love this about you.  I love hearing the random thoughts and questions going through your mind and love that you tell me each and every one of them.  I love that you keep me company and make even the most mundane tasks and errands fun, just by being there to chat my ear off.  Even though at times I wish I could mute you, I try very hard to remind myself to let you keep talking.  Because you see, even though what you have to say now may be trivial (and perhaps a touch annoying from time to time), what you have to say in 10, 20, 30, 40, etc years most definitely will not.  And I want to hear it all.  I want you to always talk to me.  I want to hear all your troubles, all your fears, all your questions and all your pains.  And I don't want you to ever even question it, I just want you to see me, and have it all spew out.  So for now, even on those days where your voice makes my blood boil (ok, that might be a bit extreme but you get the idea),  I will take a deep breath and listen to your every word.

You are a lover of life.  You love people, animals, dolls, toys, snacks, errands...I could go on.  I have never seen any child get so excited for a glass of milk, or a trip to the grocery store, or a favourite TV show.  As much as your moods may shift from one second to the next, when you are up, you are WAY up.  Your joy for life and your excitement for our days is a true testament to the joy we should all be living and be seeking.  And in turn, because you radiate this love, I am convinced that people cannot help but fall in love with you back.  Of all the people that Jake could choose to sit with on the couch, he almost always chooses you (unless Papa is over - but nobody can compete with him).  Aubrey looks for you the second she wakes up to the second she goes to sleep.  Everywhere we go, people gravitate to you, your smile, your joy and your love.  It's just your way.  You have a gift my sweet girl and I cannot wait to see where it takes you and what you can do with it.

You are an energetic one.  I cannot stress this point enough.  In your two year old letter I commented about how well and hard you sleep.  Thankfully this trait remains to this day.  However, if anyone went as hard as you do while awake I think they would sleep just as well.  You go from the second you wake up to the second you go to bed.  And because of this speed and this exuberance, when you mix in a little clumsiness and being on the taller side, that adds up to falling - a lot.  You fall, trip, get hurt so often that it's a little ridiculous already.  You have withstood so many bumps on your head (like golfball bumps) that I have lost count.  So which is it?  Are you such a good sleeper because you are just so tired, or are you permanently concussed?  TBD, I suppose :).

You are a wild one.  It honestly pains me to write this, because your wildness causes me so much grief, so much frustration, but I secretly love it.  I love your spirit, your fire and your spark.  I love that I know with complete certainty that no one will ever take advantage of you.  I love that your mood can go from devastated to joyful in a mere moment (but not so much the other way around).  

You are a game changer.  This past year it has been truly solidified in my mind, however I think to some degree I always knew that you were.  From your first few days there was just something different about you.  And each and every day since then you have made your presence known.  Moving forward, I am so very certain that you are going to do amazing things.  You are just the type.  You have an inner spirit and that special something that makes people gravitate towards you, listen to you, want to be around you.  You are a sweet soul.  You are crazy, but you are a sweet soul.

If there is one thing that I know for sure, it's that over the past year you have challenged me.  You have kept me on my toes, forced me to think outside the parenting box and change my game plan countless times.  There are countless moments where I have had to pause and take deep breaths in order for me to keep my cool.  But, interspersed among those moments of frustration are even more moments of pure love.  The kind of love that makes my heart feel like it is going to explode.  The kind of love that makes me feel like there is no way I got so lucky to have you as my daughter.  The kind of love that makes every hard moment disappear.  You are that love and you exude that love each and every day.  You are a talker, a lover, an energetic one, a wild one and a game changer and I am so very proud to call you mine.  You make everything extra special.

As per tradition around here, here is your 3rd birthday interview.  It's you.  And I love it.

Love to you, my girl, my light, my joy.  Happiest x3 and for forever.

Love,

Mama
xoxo

Month 10.

Dear Aubrey,

A few days ago, you turned 10 months old.  Double digits, my friend, and ever so creeping on that one year mark.  And once again, you are just the happiest of souls.  You continue to amaze me as you go with the flow, take whatever is thrown at you and adjust on the fly to our hectic lives and busy schedules.  

This month, I officially stopped nursing you.  When you were very young, you did "take" a bottle, however I use that term loosely as you never took it very well and clearly did not like it.  Because of how difficult it was to get you to drink from it, against all my better judgement and initial plans, I did not try often enough.  Eventually, around three months old, you just flat our refused it and we stayed in that camp for the next 6 months.  Although frustrating at times, I found comfort in the fact that it would not last forever and that when it came down to it, I didn't really have anywhere to go anyways.  Well madam, about 6 weeks ago I simply got tired of that reality.  I was ready to have some freedom and ready to rejoin the world of activities and events that start before 7pm or last longer than 4 hours.  So, we started to wean.  I followed the same type of pattern I did with your sister (as she too was a bottle refuser) and started slowly.  To say the least, it was a struggle.  You had no interest in drinking from a sippy cup and as a result basically starved yourself from liquids for about 2 weeks.  But ever so slowly, ever so surely, you started to cave.  Every day got a bit better and a bit easier.  And suddenly, about 4 weeks in you just accepted your new reality and decided to start chugging.  And chug you did (and continue to do).  And just like that I was done nursing.  FOREVER.  There may be things about having a baby that I look back on and miss, but nursing will never be one of them.  It's just not my thing.  I was willing to do it, am grateful that I could, but ultimately will not ever miss it.  Good riddance, nursing - catch ya never.

You still can't move.  And for the first time this past month, it seemed to kind of get to you at times.  You sit and you reach, and can even heave yourself onto your stomach but that is where it ends.  What follows is a whole lot of leg kicking mixed in with general grunting and whining.  Part of me hopes you can figure the whole thing out soon, as the whole show is getting a little tired, but the other part of me, the much more practical, logical side, will enjoy every moment of your immobility.  

Every month as I sit down and write these letters to you I search deep inside for the right words to describe how much you matter, how much you mean to me, how much you have changed me, and how much you have added to my/our lives.  And then, the other night I was reading the book "Carry on Warrior" by Glennon Doyle Melton and her words jumped off the page into my heart, my mind and my soul.  I have never read anything that I resonated with more.  And I could not have ever written something so perfectly that describes what welcoming you into our family did to me and to us.

Here it is...

"Then the third arrives.  And as you hold her for the first time, you notice that your hands are steady and you're breathing easy.  The all-consuming fire is gone.  Love is just...love.  Your don't feel threatened anymore by her or the world.  Because all of a sudden you see in her teeny little face that she is the world.  And you understand that you're not her protecter anyway; she has One of Those.  You're just her teacher.  You're just borrowing her for a little while.  You decide not to spend so much of your precious time begging God to shield her from the world.  Seems silly, all of a sudden.  Because she, God, the world, are all mixed up together inside that new skin.  

Then, as you count her tiny fingers with yours, you check your heart and find no guilt there.  Because you understand that you are about to present your older children with the greatest gift of their lives.  Who else but a sibling travels with you from the start of life's path to the bitter end?  And you know now that if your first and second born spend the next few months relearning that They're Not the Centre of the Universe, well, good then.  It's an important thing to know, and it's a lesson best learned early.  So, there's another gift to them, courtesy of you, and this littlest one.

You understand that things will get tougher when she comes home.  You will sweat and curse more at the grocery store.  You will have less money to buy her the right things.  You will look far less graceful at playdates.  But you will care less.  Because you have listened to and spoken to enough honest parents to understand that we're all in this together.  And that there is no prize for most composed.  So you've decided to stop making parenthood harder by pretending it's not hard.

You look down at her, your third, and you think, what's so different about you?  But before you finish asking the question, you know the answer.  And your heart says to her: Oh. You're not different from the other two.  I am.  I'm learning how to love without so much fear.  How to relax a bit, in this brutiful world.  How to let go and trust.  You are helping me breathe easier, you three.  One at a time, and together."

I cried as I read and re-read the words, over and over again.  And at the end, like a tidal wave of love, the words that came to me, were thank you.  Thank you, my sweet littlest one.  For teaching me how to let go, how to care less, how to admit when things are hard, how to breathe easier.  When your brother was born, I fought against it all.  When your sister was born, I faked it.  When you were born, I finally embraced it.  And the joy and relief that came with it has allowed me to see the world clearer, steadier and calmer.  It's a shit show sometimes (ok, a lot of the time), but it's our shit show.  And we rock it.  And at the end of the day, when I sing to you before bed, you always cuddle in to me, with your head placed firmly on my shoulder, and you sing right back almost as if you're saying "mama, we've got this".  Love is just...love.  And you, my very sweet child, are every definition of the word.  

Here's to you at 10 months new.

Love,

Mama

xoxo