Six.

Dear Addy,

A few weeks ago, you turned six years old.  Between your "friends" party and your family celebrations, it felt like your birthday lasted a couple of weeks - just the way you'd prefer it I'm sure. 

When I think about you, today, at 6, my mind can start to race - you are a bit of a complicated one!  You are no longer a little girl - at times I feel like you are closer to tween than toddler, something that is hard to believe!

You are such a gentle soul - to your classmates, your siblings, to our new puppy Hank, to strangers we meet.  You are so gentle and patient and kind and truly seem to have already grasped what it means to be a great friend.  You compromise what you want and put others needs ahead of yours.  You are WAY more patient with your sister than I am sometimes.  You are the type of kid that I am 100% sure will be first in line when it comes to being a patrol, a helper in the kindergarten room or on Mrs. Castor's leadership team.  You simply are that kind of kid.

With that softness and gentleness can sometimes come a whole whack of sensitivity, but we're working on that.  Your feelings can sometimes be quick to hurt and when you live with an almost 4 year old sister who knows how to push your buttons, sometimes the tears just flow.  You feel so deeply and although there are times when I wish you would toughen up a touch, I do want to foster your sensitivity for good.  You see people who are hurting, who need a little extra, who could benefit from your joy and you gravitate to them and lift them up. 

We tried a lot of new things over the past year - the two major ones being ringette and piano.  Ringette was a success, although very basic and more like glorified skating lessons than an actual sport but you looked forward to it every week and always tried your best.  I so look forward to watching you next fall in the next level.  Piano was the same - you thrived.  Your teacher is simply perfect for you - positive, gentle, fun, full of song - all traits I'm sure are meant specifically for you.  Like your brother still struggles with sometimes, piano can also be extremely frustrating for you and when things are difficult you can sometimes crumble.  But we're working on that, and each and every time you sat down to play you gained strength and determination - even if that was motivated by earning Shopkins cards :).

You have had just a perfectly wonderful year of Kindergarten.  You were 100% ready in September and you have completely thrived throughout the whole year.  It is so rewarding as a parent to see your child do well in school - both socially and academically.  I have had the opportunity to volunteer a couple of times in your classroom this year and each time I so enjoyed watching you with your class.  You have already made some pretty special friendships I think, and are very lucky to have so many amazing friends. 

If you look at some of the research on middle children, you will see that middle children are stereo typically neglected by their parents.  I have a hard time believing this to be true with you.  It would simply be impossible, even if I tried, to neglect you.  On the one hand, your drama and emotion and personality scream for and straight up demand the attention, but on the other, you have such an amazing draw.  People simply want to be around you.  They want to hear what you have to say and want to know what you think.  And I, my sweet girl, are no different.  So please keep talking to me.  We have been working lately on talking through our problems instead of simply crying them out.  I remember my Mom once saying to me as I bawled on her shoulder but had no words - "I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong".  I want to listen to every word you say.  And I want to help you.  I have said to you often lately - "I am on your team"...I promise that to be true. 

I have never once wished for you kids to stay little.  I thoroughly enjoy watching you grow and mature and become more independent from me each and every year that passes.  But, in June of your Kindergarten year, knowing that Grade One will be upon us soon and with it the full day, every day school day that it brings, I am most confident in this - I will miss you.  Your little sister will miss you.  Our mornings together, although often spent running errands or with me working away will not be the same without you.  I feel so grateful that I had the opportunity to be home a little more with you than with your brother.  I think you needed it, but I also think I needed it.  I needed to soak you in a little more and hold you a little tighter, but now you're ready.  And in the mean time, we will get to spend the summer together loving on each other (and driving each other crazy) and visiting Mickey and Minnie! before September comes and our time together gets cut.  Just promise me that you'll make up for it when you can.

Love you, sweet girl. x6

Love,

Mama
xoxo

Seven.

Dear Colin,

Well this is embarrassing.  It's almost February and I am just doing this now.  It's been so long that I almost tried to give myself the excuse that I should just forget it and make the announcement that these birthday letters for you guys end at 6 years old.  Which is just ridiculous because it was always my intention to continue these for you for every year that I am able - so, that's what we'll do.  Even if it's brutally late, or maybe short, I'm going to get some words out.

You are the best 7 year old I have ever had the pleasure to know.  I don't know if there was anything revolutionary or transformative in you between the age of 6 or 7 or if it was rather just a consistent and steady increase of maturity, calmness, rationality and patience.  Regardless of whether or not it was a switch over night or a work in progress, it is appreciated.  You are my steady state, my constant and my calm.  You rarely get upset, rarely cause problems and usually are the peacekeeper that your sisters desperately need.

It is an odd transition for a parent, when you realize that your child doesn't really need you anymore.  Don't get me wrong - you still need me for MANY things, but the basic stuff, you don't need.  You don't need help with clothes or shoes, don't need reminders or help in the bathroom, don't need help getting a snack, don't need me to help you get your hockey stuff on. Believe me, it is nice to not be needed every second of the day (especially when I have others who still do), but that doesn't change the fact that it just feels odd.  Especially when I think about the fact that as every year ticks by, you are going to need me less and less, big or small.  I am so impressed with your independance, your drive to learn and master new skills, and your ability to lead.  You are a true first born.

There is nothing a parent likes to hear more than the praise of their child from their teacher.  During the week you are at school for more hours a day than you are at home and there I am so proud of the reputation you have built for yourself at school.  We constantly hear about your kindness of others, your work ethic and how willing you are to help others.  There are no other traits that I wished more for you and at each parent teacher interview, each chance encounter with a teacher, it is like music to my ears to hear how much they appreciate and enjoy having them in your classroom. 

The other day you asked to speak to me "in private" (which by itself made my ears raise).  When we got into my room and closed the door, you asked me a simple question.  If you and I could go somewhere just us.  It made my heart swell to think about the fact that you still wanted/needed some time with just me, but also made me it hurt just a bit.  Sometimes I worry about the amount of time I spend working, the amount of time I spend distracted, the amount of times I feel pulled in a million directions.  I worry that each time I choose something that takes me away from you that you are mentally calculating a total to one day throw back in my face with feelings of resentment and neglect.  I don't think there is a parent in the world who hasn't felt the same at some point - because it never feels like enough.  Even though I hardly ever miss an activity or event of yours, even though I am there almost every morning and most bedtimes, it never seems like enough.  There just isn't enough hours in the day to be involved in as many things as we are and also have multiple opportunities a week to wind down and relax together or spend time just you and I. But that doesn't mean I will ever stop trying.  And ultimately, you can always know that even though I am not always there, or even though it may seem like sometimes I am choosing others, I would ALWAYS choose you.

You are a special boy.  You at 7 are exactly what I always hoped and prayed for in a 7 year old child.  You make me so incredibly proud.

Love you to the moon & back x7,

Mama
xoxo

Three.

Dear Aubrey,

A few weeks ago, you turned 3 years old.

I am fairly certain that I have said this in previous letters to you, but once again, if I could, I would pause you and keep you this age for just awhile longer.  You are just that sweet, and funny, and snuggly, and cute.  Maybe it's because I know that you are my last baby, or maybe you are just THAT fantastic, but either way, I could get used to having this version and this age of you around.

You are fiercely independent but at the same time the one that wants to be around me the most.  You play so well by yourself but will also just sit on my lap as I work on the computer quietly and contently.  You do not need any instruction or help to make up a game or go on a solo adventure.  You are the most content child I have ever experienced.

You still love you blanket (nee nee) more than anything but have recently been cut off from bringing it with us when we leave the house.  It was my doing...I just didn't think that a 3 year old really needed to be dragging a blanket around behind her at Costco or the hockey rink.  You have handled this transition well so far and enjoyed every homecoming a little more that you know nee nee is waiting for you.

This year will bring some changes for us as I am going to be home a lot more and you will not be in Nursery School like your sister did at 3.  It was a deliberate move on my part as your sister is starting Kindergarten and needed a bit more stability in the mornings before school.  I don't foresee you needing this same support from me, but who knows?  So for this year, it will be just you and I, every afternoon and wow does that ever excite me.  I genuinely enjoy every single minute that I get to spend with you and the fact that we will get so much time together is simply the best.

You are everyone's favourite.  I know that is partially due to the fact that you are simply the youngest but it is also due to the fact that you are just that fun.  Everywhere we go people are continually enthralled with you.  You have a certain positive energy and joy that radiates through your smile and your eyes that people can't help but notice.

You, my sweet girl, are a dream.  You are everything that a 3 year old should be and so much more than I ever knew was possible.  You have fit into our family effortlessly and perfectly and made everything so incredibly wonderful and complete.  You were the best decision your Dad and I have ever made and I am so incredibly thankful that you are OURS.

This video, like every other one, is so perfectly you.  You are so fun and cheeky.  And apparently you want to be a butterfly when you grow up - obvs.

Here's to you at 3 years new,

Mama
xoxo

A Whole Hand.

Dear Addy,

More than a few weeks ago, you turned 5 years old...a whole hand.

Once again, I am a little late getting this letter to you and although life is busy and my to do list is long, I would never want to miss the chance to put down on paper exactly what it's like to be blessed by YOU at this exact time of your life.

Like I have said many, many times before, you are a wild one.  Your emotions swing dramatically and I sometimes have a hard time keeping up.  Your highs are high and your lows are low.  You feel everything dramatically and intensely and you are sometimes extremely hard to figure out.  You go from 0 to 100 quicker than anybody I have ever known and quite honestly, that can be very frustrating for me, especially when your emotion is driven by incredibly simple or trivial things.  Often times, in an attempt to get you to calm down, results in me getting upset with you (or sometimes yelling at you), and believe me when I say that I don't love admitting.  But, my sweet girl, I just don't know what else to do.  We are still learning, you and I and I promise to always keep trying.  There has to be a better way to help nurture your spirit...so if you have any ideas, I'm all ears :).

BUT - that all being said...you are such a bright light.  You are so sweet and caring and funny.  You love deeply.  You hug tighter and for longer and you tell me you love me throughout each and every day.  You are the first to run to the door when I come home or pick you up from somewhere and the first to tell me that you missed me.

You are insightful but you are also in your own head a lot.  I sometimes think you spend a lot of time visualizing and thinking about how situations will play out.  And then, when plans change or things don't go as you imagined, you sometimes have trouble adapting.  But we have seen huge growth in you, even over the past 3 months.  You are having an easier and easier time accepting and rolling with plans and even consequences.  We have seen you take deep breaths and talk through issues, rather than your usual eruption.  It is amazing to watch you mature and grow - let's keep that going!

A few months ago, I was thinking about increasing my workload and maybe working out of the house additional days in the fall.  This would have meant additional day care days for you, with the addition of Kindergarten every afternoon.  BUT, after careful thinking (and some great advice from your Grandma), I realized that I just couldn't do that to you.  Because, quite simply, you need me, and you need calmness and predictability.  Kindergarten will be plenty for you...and although I know without a doubt that you will excel while at school, I am not super confident that you could handle both kindergarten and daycare.  So, as difficult as it is for me sometimes to slow down, that is exactly what we are going to do.  We are going to spend more time at home and together next year than perhaps we ever have before.  And although the process of coming to that decision wasn't easy, as soon as I made it I questioned how I could have ever considered the alternative.  You and your siblings are my priority and there is nothing I want more than to give you the love and support that you need.  If that means putting my needs and wants on hold for the time being, then I am all for it.  You come first - and I never want you to question that.

I have been a Mom for almost 7 years now...and I can honestly say that at no point has it gotten easier.  I am continually faced with problems I have no idea how to solve.  What works with your brother almost never works with you and I am fairly certain the theme will continue with your sister as well.  But this, this I know - you have blessed me beyond measure.  By simply being you, as wild and unpredictable and difficult and dramatic as you can be, you make my life so much better than I ever dreamed it could be.  It is my absolute privilege to be your Mom.  This is a big year coming up for you - can't wait to watch you rock it.

Your 5th birthday video is so perfectly you.  Your smiles, your 'shyness', your emotion and tempered near the end frustration and, let's not forget your attire - just perfectly YOU.  There is no one quite like you and I wouldn't change you if I could.  You make me so proud.

Love you x5 to my missy,

Mama
xoxo

The Big 6.

Dear Colin,

A few weeks ago, you turned 6 years old.

Leading up to your 6th birthday and in the couple of weeks that have passed since, your Dad and I have both commented how all of a sudden you seem so BIG.  Gone is our baby, our little kid, you are straight up BIG KID now.  Your legs are long, your words are complex and your silliness is full on out.  But at the end of the day, you are everything and more that I could have ever hoped to have in a child, a son, a first born.

Let me explain...

Every year on your birthday I find myself reminiscing about our first year together.  In some ways it was a simpler time, as it was just the two of us (during the day at least), but somehow I found a way to make it extremely complicated. Because you see, no matter what, your first baby feels all encompassing and straight out hard.  Once that second baby comes along, you wonder how you could have ever thought one baby was hard but that doesn't change the fact that that first baby, that first baby is a whirlwind. You my friend, lived up to that whirlwind reputation from the minute you were born.  It didn't take very long for you to start expressing your opinions and an equally short amount of time for me to realize that your opinions were drastically different to mine.  So that's where we lived, for about 9 months.  You telling me one thing, and me trying to convince you of another.  We clashed, buddy - big time.  And for that reason, I don't think I truly enjoyed you as a baby.  Don't get me wrong, I LOVED you with everything I had, but the days seemed long and to a certain extent, I wished them away.

Somewhere around the one year mark, you and I finally figured it out.  And I am so happy to report that ever since then, you and I have been making up for that first year.  Because ever since we found our groove, you and I, we have never looked back.  You are the type of kid that I could be around all day every day.  You are fun and interesting and funny. You are SO unbelievably kind and caring.  You are a great friend and always try your best.

As I reflect on the 6 year old version of you that I am lucky enough to experience every single day, I think of the fact that you:

LOVE to learn.  Your mind is a sponge and your memory is scarily accurate.  You have discovered the love of reading, something both your Dad and I hoped you would have.  As your reading skills improved over the course of this past year, it was like a whole new world opened up to you.  Everything is now at your finger tips and it is so obvious that this is what you have been waiting for.  Because now there is no limit to what you can read about and learn about and to you, this is the ultimate.

LOVE sports and stats.  You love to play but you equally love to watch and love to keep track of what is going on in the game.  Hockey has become a huge love of yours and it shows by the way you play the game.  You usually aren't the best player on the ice but you try your best - and that in itself makes me so incredibly proud of you.  Not once last year did you complain or need convincing when it was time for hockey.  You were always ready and looking forward to the next opportunity to get out there.

LOVE Lego.  You have never been a super hero kid.  Haven't really gotten into Ninja turtles or Transformers.  But Lego, you love - you simply love to build.  You can spend hours by yourself creating and inventing Lego scenes.

You really are an amazing kid.  But let's be honest, just like every child who ever was, we have moments, you and I.  There are times where you frustrate me as I can't believe I am having to repeat myself...again.  Or where you are by far the oldest child, but still the one causing the problems.  Or the discussions we have to have about treating your sisters kindly...

The other day, after an issue with your sisters I heard you mutter under your breath "I wish I didn't have any sisters".  And so, we had to talk about that.  Because ultimately I knew that wasn't your heart talking.  But you know what, bucky, I get it.  I get that it's not easy to be the oldest.  I get that the expectations we have for you are usually much higher than those we have for your siblings.  I get that being the "example" is exhausting and frustrating at times.  I get that your sisters often monopolize my attention and time.  And for all of these reasons I am so incredibly grateful that your sisters have YOU as their older brother.  Because (for the most part) you are exactly what they need.  You are a great example, you are caring and compassionate to their needs and emotions and you look out for them whenever you can.  Just like your Dad and I are so blessed to have you, so are they.  I know that some days it doesn't seem like they know that but I promise you, one day they will.

My sweet, sweet child - I can hardly believe that we are already here.  Grade one has started and while walking to the bus the other morning you reached out and held my hand as we walked down the driveway.  As we turned the corner and you spotted some of the other kids who also catch the bus on the same corner you immediately pulled your hand away from mine.  As much as that moment hurt my heart, as I reflected on it during my walk back to the house I realized that it perfectly summed us up in this moment.  Because as much as you don't need me anymore, you still need me.  You still require hugs after school and kisses before bed.  You still look for comfort when you are hurt and make cards to tell me you love me.  I know that as time goes on, you will pull further and further away from me and your hand will leave mine sooner and sooner down the driveway until one day you don't even reach for it at all.  But, in the mean time, when I am lucky enough to still have it tight within mine, I will work on continually telling you how much I love you, how proud I am of you and how if I had every little boy in the world to pick from I would pick you, every time.  So that as your hand leaves mine for good, my voice inside your head and my heart within your heart will remain.  That no matter where you go or what you do, you will never question that to me, you are everything.

Love you to the moon and back x6.

Mama
xoxo


And here you are...all 6 years old of you.  Silly and silly and silly.


 

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

Month 9.

Dear Aubrey,

A few days ago, you turned 9 months old.  As of this month you have officially been on the outside as long as I knew you were in the inside, and as per usual, you continue to take it easy on us around here.

Although 95% of the month you did uphold your amazing attitude, we did dabble on the other side a few times.  At first, I couldn't quite figure out what the problem was.  You were still fairly happy, but would randomly cry out or need to be held periodically during the day.  It wasn't until your Auntie Kari pointed out the FOUR TEETH that were coming through your top gums that the mystery was solved.  How I missed those teeth coming in I will never know but instantly I understood and sympathized with you as it looked as painful as your cries sounded.  By the end of the month they had all broken through completely and you relaxed again.  I cannot imagine how much that must hurt and even so you handled it like a pro.

This month will also mark the first time we experienced your temper.  Up until now you have pretty much gone with the flow, having toys ripped from your grasp numerous times a day (cue Addy), never as much as batting an eye.  On this particular day however, you were sitting with your Dad, playing with this domino math game of your Nana's when Colin asked your Dad if he could play with it.  Knowing that you probably couldn't care less, your Dad said sure, but just asked Colin to get something else for you to play with  - a trade of some sorts.  So, your Dad took the game away from you to hand to Colin...this is where your temper erupted.  The sound you made and the tears that followed stopped both your Dad and I in our tracks.  We couldn't believe how strongly you reacted.  So much so, that we decided to test the waters again...we are cruel parents like that.  So, your Dad handed the game back to you, only to take it away again a few seconds later.  And oh my, the question of whether or not you were having a temper tantrum was forever solidified - a solid yes.  As much as I realize that dealing with baby and toddler temper tantrums is not my favourite part of being a parent, watching you erupt actually made me laugh.  To be honest, I think it was the first time I saw that much emotion come out of you.

Seeing this outburst also reminded me that soon enough you are going to be a full fledged opinionated part of this family.  So far, you have pretty much just gone along with whatever we were doing, whatever we were eating, wherever we were going.  The clock is ticking on this easy breezy stage and I am interested to see how you ultimately fit into the mix around here.  One more person means one more opinion and one more personality to mesh into our family mould.  I'll be completely honest - that scares me a little.  Some days, I feel like all I do is referee opinions, and I just have 2 to deal with.  Adding the third (that's you) to the mix will undoubtedly have its fair share of rocky moments/days/months.  There are so many unknowns about how you will mix things up around here, at each of your stages and years.  That being said, one thing that is forever certain, is that this family was meant to include you.  Your Dad and I dreamed about each one of you kids and knew that our lives needed you and our hearts ached for you.  I don't know if I will ever feel worthy of the gift that is you (or your brother or sister) but I do know that it is a gift I will never take for granted.  Yes, some days are tough, sometimes I am exhausted and from time to time I lose my mind.  But at the end of each day, when the three of you kids are sleeping away and the house is quiet again I know that I am exactly where I am meant to be.  This life of ours, although crazy at times, could not be better.  We are so lucky and so blessed.  And you, my dear, make things that much sweeter. So far, the show you have put on has been the very best of opening acts.  You have me hooked.  I can't look away as I don't want to miss one minute and I wait with baited breath to see the plot unfold.  With you as the star of the show, it's sure to be a hit.

Here's to you at 9 months new.

Love,

Mama
xoxo

Month 8.

Dear Aubrey,

A few days ago, you turned 8 months old.  Once again, you continue to amaze me.  You are so good and so easy and so wonderful.  You handle this life of ours and the busy, always on the go days we have around here so painlessly that I often wonder if you're too good to be true.  The only explanation I can come up with is that you will pay us back in your teenage years.  It seems only fair.

This month, you started to really eat and eat you did.  You can pack back the food like nobody's business.  And to date, there has been nothing that you have refused.  Both your brother and sister have spent time in the "picky eater" category so at this moment in time, I am loving your willingness to try new food and pack back a meal in record time.  I can assume that this means that this will always be the case and that we will never have to set the timer, serve suppers for breakfast or withhold snacks like I have had to do too often with your brother and sister.  One can hope, right?

For this first time this month you were plucked from your carseat for a ride in the front of the cart at Superstore.  From the second your bum hit that seat you were over the moon thrilled.  I have honestly never seen you smile like that - and you smile a lot.  You were absolutely giddy.  Your sister sat beside you as we shopped and you took in every single moment of that trip.  You touched everything and anything you could.  I was instantly brought back about 2 years and 4 years ago when my grocery list became a snack and each one you felt the need to gnaw on it every chance you got.  This time around, I am smart enough to realize that this stage does not last forever and is so much better than the "I want out of the cart" stage which comes all too quickly.  For that reason, my lady, grab and gnaw away.

A little while ago, it became tragically apparent how truly lucky we are to have you.  By the grace of God we have three amazing, healthy, happy children and a life that is nothing but good.  I was reminded at a deep, painful level that at any moment tragedy can strike and your life, or what you thought would be your life, can dissolve.  I spent some time running through what it would be like to lose one of you kids.  How that would destroy and shatter my core, my heart and my soul.  After some time, in that deep, dark place I had a realization - there wasn't really a point in torturing myself with those thoughts.  The fact of the matter is that for whatever reason, we are lucky enough to have you all - happy, healthy and amazing.  If for some reason that should change some day, I would never want to think that I wasted even one second crying about what might happen.  I would want to know that I spent every second of every day soaking in your joy, enjoying your light and loving on you with every ounce of my heart.  Life is far too precious for anything else.

My sweet girl, I am already better because of you.  I am already more of who I am supposed to be because of you.  I already love better and more immensely because of you.  All in 8 months - that's got to be some sort of record.

Here's to you at 8 months new.

Love x8,

Mama
xoxo

Month 7.

Dear Aubrey,

A few days ago, you turned 7 months old.  It's been pretty much business as usual around here and just like most every other month that you have been part of our family, you continue to allow the crazy to go on around you, never complaining or objecting.  This month you started sitting on your own and love to sit, play and watch the world around you from an upright position.  It amazes me how good you are at this already, rarely falling backward or to the side.  My amazement quickly turns to worry as the speed in which you acquired this skill does not bode well for me in the long run.  As much as I love to watch you grow and learn, life with a baby changes drastically when said baby becomes mobile.  For this reason, feel free to get comfortable where you are.  I love you every way, but I love you the most when you stay in one spot.

For the first time this month, you sat with Addy in the front of the cart at the store.  Up until that point you stayed in your carseat and were perfectly content to look up at the lights and people watch as we grocery shopped.  If it wasn't for the amount of crucial cart space that your carseat occupies, I probably could have left you like that for many more months.  But I needed that space, so up you came.  And from the second your bum hit that seat, your mind was blown.  It was like all of a sudden your life made sense, the world was your oyster and your life's possibilities were endless.  The joy in your heart was palpable.  I am well aware that very soon a grocery shopping trip will become less than world shatteringly impressive to you so in the mean time I will just enjoy the look on your face each and every time it appears.

Believe it or not, even though I have been a Mom for almost 4 and a half years, it still amazes me that I have one child, never mind three.  Occasionally when your brother or sister calls me Mom it hits me deep.  Deep, deep down in my heart and soul that forever and ever, I am your Mom.  It is because I know how infinitely special my own Mom is to me, how crucial she has been and continues to be to my life, how she knows me and my story, from start to finish that the fact that I have three of my own is sometimes too much for my heart to handle.  And you, even though we have only known each other for 7 months, hold just as equal amount of real estate in this bursting heart of mine as the others.  To put the way I feel about you into words, is something I struggle with each and every month I sit down to write this letter to you.  And then, a few days ago, I read this, and it just made sense...

"You were a risk, a mystery, and the most certain thing I'd ever known." - Beau Taplin

I read these words and immediately realized that they summed up perfectly the journey in which you became part of our family.  Before you were to be, we were just hitting our groove around here.  Nights were uninterrupted, naps were skippable and we had what has been coined "a million dollar family".  You were, in fact, a risk.  Shaking things up is a gamble and it doesn't always mean things will settle right side up.  You were also a mystery.  What kind of baby you would be, whether you would be a boy or a girl, what you would think of this whole shebang we call life - a mystery.  Risk, yes.  Mystery, yes.  The most certain thing I'd ever known - no doubt.  From the time you were just a thought and a dream to this very moment, however many months that is later, you my girl, in my heart, were a sure thing.  I wanted you.  I knew that my life needed you and that no matter how hard and exhausting another baby would be, that in the end, my life would not be complete without you.  It was never a question and to this day maintains that status.  You were worth the risk, mystery included.  Your joy, your light, your you have done nothing but solidify what I already knew.  To me, you are and will always be, certain.  

Here's to you at 7 months new.

Love x7,

Mama

xoxo

Month 6.

Dear Aubrey,

Yesterday, you turned 6 months old - one half year.  I remember the first few days after you were born, just like the first few days after each of your siblings were born, everything was a bit overwhelming.  The best advice I can give any first time Mom is that no matter how much reading and preparation you think you have done, you have no idea until that baby is staring you in the face.  Like literally, no idea.  With your brother, I definitely had zero idea.  I had some idea with your sister.  I had a decent idea with you.  But still, those first few days, as much as your heart is exploding with every coo, every slight opening of eyes, the work is hard.  I knew too much this time around.  I knew that the nights ahead would be long, I knew that establishing nursing would be tough, I knew that integrating you into our crazy household would take time.  I remember saying to your Dad that I just needed to get to 6 months - at 6 months, I felt that things would have settled down again.  And honestly, I wasn't wrong.  Here we are, at our milestone and things are fairly calm.  You are definitely well integrated into this family and eating and sleeping have long been established.

I kind of feel like we are in the calm before the storm around here.  I'll explain.  You are at the age where you still sleep (a lot), but while awake, can definitely entertain yourself with the help of a few strategically placed contraptions.  We pretty much rotate through the exersaucer, jolly jumper and play mat.  You love them all and can spend as long as I will allow reaching, batting, gumming and bouncing your awake time away.  The beauty of it all though, and the reason for the "calm" is that you still stay where I put you.  Besides a bit of shifting and pivoting on your play mat, your toys and your immobility contain you to one place.  Tis no better a thing than a happy baby who stays in one place.  The storm that awaits us is when you can move around and all of a sudden the death trap that is our house will become a real threat.  What do I mean by death trap, you ask?  Well let me tell you.  It starts with Lego, thousands and thousands of pieces of Lego, continues with a bazillion places to climb and ends with 2 other children who know how to open (and leave open) the basement gate.  Yes, it's going to be a learning curve for us all.  For all of these reasons,  I will love this time and soak it in as long as I can.  I am in no rush to get you to the mobility stage.  No rush.  Hear me?  NO RUSH.  Stay put for as long as you like, little one.

This past month we said a definite goodbye to your acceptance of a bottle.  At first, I was upset and frustrated, as taking a bottle means that I can have a bit more freedom and a break from time to time.  But shortly after, after I really thought about things, I realized that it doesn't really matter if you take a bottle or not.  I have decided that I don't care.  Yes, when the time to wean comes it will make things a little harder, but for now, I promise, it really doesn't matter.  For one, where am I going?  I have no weddings in Mexico (unfortunately), which is the reason I needed your sister to take a bottle.  Secondly, I have three kids.  Yes, it is true.  And when you have three kids your list of social activities tends to be quite short anyways.  And lastly, this is the last time of my life where I am going to have a nursing baby.  Even if I nursed you another 2, 3, 4, 5 months even, I am never ever going to do this again and that is a-ok by me.  For now, it's you and me, my girl.  The time will come to part ways (at least eating wise) and that's ok by me too, but for now, we come as a set.

We celebrated Christmas over the past month, and just like most things in life, I don't think you had any clue what was going on.  That being said, you were as joyful as always and put up with the chaos and business that is Christmas.  I can only imagine the difference in you by next Christmas as each year with your siblings is better than the last.  I imagine that next year might be the typical "more interested in the wrapping than the presents" year which is one of my favourites.

Ok, lady - just in case you haven't picked up on this yet, you are just the best baby ever.  When you are done nursing, and it's just you and I in your room, I sometimes hide in there with you for a minute or two longer.  I can hear the crazies being crazy outside your door, and even though I know I should go supervise their craziness, I can't quite make myself get up.  We have mini conversations (me talking, you grunting), read a quick book, and enjoy the quiet (or at least the muffled craziness) for a few minutes.  Can you keep a secret?  It's often my favourite time of day.

Here's to you at 6 months new.

Love x6,

Mama
xoxo

Month 5.

Dear Aubrey,

A few days ago, you turned 5 months old.  My sweet, sweet, sweet girl, you are officially my favourite baby.  Don't tell your brother or sister, although if either of them had any memory of their first few months of life, they would probably understand. And really, while we're on the subject, 99% of babies would be better than Colin was so beating him out in the favourite category is really nothing to brag about.  Beating Addy though - that is something for the books.  Your sister was by far my BEST sleeper.  I woke (and really still wake) her up from every nap and in the morning pretty much every single day.  That being said, as good as sleeper as she was/is, we all in turn became a slave to her nap as her napping needs became very specific.  She really would only nap by herself, in a dark, quiet room.  When she was able to sleep, she was a happy baby.  If for any reason we weren't home at nap time or were late getting home, oh my.  You, are a perfect hybrid of a solid sleeper who at the same time can handle being tired and handle waiting.

You wait a lot.  The fact that you wait so patiently and happily is the best gift you could ever give me.  Life around here would look A LOT different if you did not grace us so wonderfully with your ease.  I have heard numerous people tell me that third babies pretty well live in their carseat.  Although I wouldn't go this far with you, you do spend a lot of time in it, especially on nursery school, swimming and skating lesson days.  You have gotten so comfortable in there that it is the only place you poop anymore :).

This month you started eating solids and as per the theme of your general life so far, you caught on with ease.  There are days that you eat a lot and days where you purse your mouth shut so tight there is no chance of getting the spoon in.  Every time you reject the meal it makes me think how my perspective on things as a Mom has changed so much now that I have had 3 kids.  If Colin had rejected a meal I probably would have gotten extremely frustrated, attempted to FORCE him to eat, and then panicked that he wouldn't sleep, as a result of the missed meal.  With you, I simply get your message and go on with our day.  I now have the experience to really understand that as your mother, I can't force you to eat and really, I can't force you to sleep.  Obviously there are things I can do to lead you down the right paths of eating and sleeping, but ultimately neither can be forced.  It is amazing how liberating it is to accept that.  It's too bad I couldn't have done it 4 years ago - would have saved myself a lot of worry and a lot of googling!

Your Auntie Heather and I were talking the other day about the fact that our kids probably won't remember anything about the things we do or the places we go at this time in their lives. We talked about how we work so hard to create fun moments and the fact that none of you will ever remember it is sometimes a little sad.  Personally, I really only have a small handful of real memories of my childhood.  My earliest childhood memory is being at Disney World in 1988, on the Dumbo ride and looking down to see my Mom, your Grandma, buying a soft pretzel from a food vendor.  I have no idea why that memory has stuck around, but for whatever reason, it is there.  Even though I don't remember much of anything else, there are two reasons why I know for sure that I had an amazing childhood.  For one, quite simply, there are pictures.  I am trying to make sure I provide the gift of documenting our lives as well, through my Project Life books.  Secondly, and much more importantly and complexly, there is the feeling.  The feeling of fun, of joy, of family and of love.  Even though I don't remember the exact things we did or the places and things we saw, I know for sure that through it all, we had so much fun.  The specifics are blurry but the overall theme is there - we loved each other and we genuinely enjoyed spending time together.  I can honestly say that these two traits still remain (at least on my end) within our original family, and also has extended to our extended families.  There is nothing more that I want for you and your brother and sister than to have that same feeling about your own childhood.  The desire for you to feel the same makes all the planning worth it.  It makes the the energy it takes to haul three kids across town to Great Big Adventure worth it, it makes saving up for big trips and adventures worth it, it makes scouring Pinterest for the next fun craft worth it.  As you three get older, the list of things we can do as a family gets longer and the adventures we can experience together get bigger.  I am so excited for each and every moment and hope that the moments we create, although individually may be forgotten, add up to the happiness and fun that you three (and every child for that matter) deserve.

Aub - it is such a privilege to be your Mom.  You are the most perfect addition to our family and in every sense of the word, have completed us.  Every month that passes allows us a few more sneak peeks into you - what makes you tick, what makes you smile, what makes you YOU.  Honestly, I don't think there is anything as a Mom that gives me more joy than to see my kids becoming themselves.  Even the parts about your brother and sister that drive me crazy are so uniquely them that I can't help but secretly enjoy it all.  As this life of ours unfolds, day by day, it just makes sense that you are a part of it.  As much as on some days, it may seem as if you are just in the background, often overshadowed by your siblings needs, schedules and voices, I can assure you that in my heart and in my soul, you are just as important and just as intertwined in to what makes my heart beat and my soul ache in the best way possible.  You make everything exactly the way it should be.

Here's to you at 5 months new.

Love,

Mama
xoxo

Month 4.

Dear Aubrey,

A few days ago, you turned 4 months old.  On that same day, I turned 32 years old.  It's hard for me to imagine you, at 32, considering the fact that we are still getting to know you and determine what makes you tick.  From what I do know about you, I think you will rock 32 like nobody else.  Whatever you life brings you at that age, I just hope that I am still around to see it.

This past month, you have defined the saying "find your groove".  You, my lady baby, kicked month 3's ass.  Whatever grooves we needed to find were zeroed in on and mastered, one by one.  I have said it before and I will say it again, you are an easy baby.  You rarely, if ever make a noise, and if you do, it's only because I have pushed you, yet again, past your very generous limits.  You have grabbed daytime sleep by the horns and told it where to go.  You sleep in the car, you sleep in the stroller, you sleep in your bed, you sleep in someones arms...you adapt to each and every day without a wimper, without a complaint.  I totally and completely owe my sanity to you.  You see, your brother and sister have a tendency to drive me crazy with fighting, crying, never ending negotiating - pretty much the regular 2 and 4 year old crap.  If you joined in on their circus I think it would send me over the edge.  By you, my sweet, sweet girl do nothing but ground me.  You ask for so little and give SO MUCH to me each and every day.  Your eyes light up for me and in an instant I can feel myself calm down and regroup.  You are my saving grace as a Mom.

Last week I had you in the Bumbo on top of the kitchen island while I worked in the kitchen.  Your brother and sister were playing away.  In a, I have three kids and have never had a problem cocky moment, I left the room.  In that instant, your sister climbed onto the play table and pulled you down.  You hit your head on the corner of the play table and again on the ground.  I heard both hits and then your sister crying.  I will never forget the way your body looked, facedown on the ground.  You never made a sound, never shed a tear, which terrified me even more.  I felt so helpless.  I had no idea what to do so naturally, I screamed at your sister and sent her to her room.  Obviously the logical thing to do.  I held you and cried.  Tears of fear and tears of guilt streamed down my face but ultimately you were fine.  A bump on the head and a few pukes were really the only marks left.  On my heart however, a mark will last forever.  I should never have left you up there and walked away.  I was cocky and careless and I'm sorry.  I know you will never remember what happened, but I will never forget.  It knocked me back to reality of how fragile a baby is, how rough and unaware a 2 year old can be and how carefully I need to protect you.  I am so grateful that this incident was what reminded me of these things rather than something more serious.  My job is to keep you healthy and safe and I'm so sorry that I slipped up.  Thank you for again, taking it easy on me, brushing yourself off and carrying on like nothing happened.  Chalk another one up to you.

Your Dad asked me the other day what I was like as a baby.  And to be honest (Mom, please correct me if I am wrong), I think I was a lot like you.  Pretty calm, pretty much a go with the flow kind of kid.  I think these are pretty common traits of a third child as life does not stop when they come into the mix.  Older siblings have commitments and the busyness of life just kind of carries on while they grow.  After he asked me this, I started to wonder if that means you might be like me as a child, teenager and adult.  If you agree with what you read about birth order, I fit the youngest child description to a tee.  The fact that our family is identical to the one I grew up with (boy, girl, girl), I can't wait to see how things pan out for us.  I can't seem to buy a kid to look anything like me, so I wouldn't mind if I could get in on the personality side of things.  By the way, I am well aware that I may regret saying and wishing this.  Only time will tell.

Again, and again, and again, I just can't get enough of you.  I don't know if it's because you are my last, or just because you are you, but I really feel connected to you.  You have taken to your play gym lately and love reaching up and batting the toys.  I could watch you do this for hours as it is amazing to me to watch you learn and develop - all in such a short 4 months.  I love watching how gently you reach for them and how you squeal with delight when they rattle.  I can't wait for whatever is next.  If your Dad and I ever made a right decision, it was in deciding to have a third child.  I honestly cannot imagine our family without you, can't imagine me without you.  You have completed us and completed me in so many ways.  You are so loved.

Here's to you at 4 months new.

Love x4,

Mama
xoxo