Dear Daughter: On the Arrival of Your Little Sister

Dear Boo,

Today is March 27, which means that I have officially hit 40 weeks of pregnancy with your little sister.

She will make her arrival into the world any day now, and I have been spending more time thinking about how it will affect you. For three years now, you have been our one and only, the light of our lives, the center of our world, and soon you will have to share the spotlight with this new little person. I’m excited to watch the two of you grow up, to see how your relationship blossoms as the years go on, but I’m also a little sad too.

You have taught me so much in your short life already. I have learned how to be a mother. I have learned how to love someone else more than I could ever imagine loving myself. I have learned forgiveness – not just for others, but for myself too, because I know I’m not perfect, and I know you know this too, and I see you forgiving me when I make mistakes.

I have grown up. I have you to thank for that.

I have also learned just how much I enjoy our one-on-one time. Our mother/daughter dates are something that I look forward to when we’re able to take them, and they seem to be one of your favorite things to do, too. That’s what makes me the most sad; it isn’t just that you will have to learn how to share me with someone else, but that our one-on-one time together will become more infrequent as I attempt to juggle my time between you both, and I don’t want to lose the bond that we’ve created since you entered my life.

Please be patient with me as I navigate this new world of being a parent of two.

Remember that you were first.

You were the first child that I brought into this world. You were the first to teach me about sleepless nights and colic, about breastfeeding and how to change diapers, about my own instincts and unconditional love; you were the one to teach me to have confidence in myself and my abilities as a parent, to ignore criticism when my gut told me that it was wrong, and to accept the fact that I’m not – and never will be – perfect.

You taught me how to be a mother, and I am so incredibly thankful for what you have brought to my life. As my firstborn, you will always hold a special place in my heart, and I hope that we remain as close as we are now as you grow older. I hope that you can look back on your childhood one day with fond memories of your time with me, because I still intend to have as much mother/daughter time as I can with you… even if you find yourself having to share that time with someone else sometimes, too.

I love you so much.

We’ll figure this out as we go.

Love,
Mom

Halloween 2014 Recap

Who said it was okay for it to be November already? Wasn’t it summer like a week ago?

And why are Halloween costumes so expensive? Does it really cost that much to put together a couple of cheap pieces of fabric and some plastic pieces? Come on. For Halloween last year, I sewed Boo a monkey outfit, but I was feeling super lazy – and cheap – this year, so I put her into an animal print sweatshirt, painted on some whiskers and a nose, and told everyone she was a cat. I suppose cat ears would have been a nice added touch, but we didn’t go shopping for things for her costume until the day before the holiday and I didn’t exactly have much to choose from.

Do you think it’s acceptable for me to eat nearly every piece of candy that my daughter got on Halloween since she’s too young to enjoy much of it herself? I’m just trying to prevent her from getting diabetes, you know. Taking one for the team and all that. Also, some words of wisdom to remember for next year (and every year after that): never, ever wear flip-flops trick-or-treating. The one year that you decide, “I can’t find my socks or shoes, so I guess I’ll wear my flip-flops this one time,” will be the year that snow falls from the sky and the wind burns the skin on your cheeks. Trust me. Learn from my mistakes.

Hopefully, next year will be a little bit warmer and we’ll get Boo a proper costume.

Baby’s First Trip to the ER

I’ve always been a pretty clumsy person. I’ve run into, tripped over, and fallen on more things than I can count in my twenty-four years. In fact, my earliest memory is of the time that I broke my left foot. I was about two years old and I was pretending that I was in the Olympics. I stood on top of a box and jumped, intending to land on one foot, but I did not come out the victor; I hit the floor with one foot just fine, except for the fact that I broke it and had to be rushed to the hospital that night.

trip to ER 01

I wore that cast proudly.

As a mom, I have always thought it would be really cool if my daughter took after me in some way, but this was not exactly what I meant.

Yesterday, we got home around 9pm from running an errand and Boo wanted to climb up the stairs on the outside of our apartment building and back down the single set of stairs inside that leads to the ground floor, where our apartment is located. She has done this a million times before. I stood off to the side, watching her slowly make her way down the steps backwards, as she usually does, and when she got to the last step, she stood and turned. When she did, her foot caught on something (I presume her other foot) and she fell forward, crashing down onto the ground.

I panicked.

My poor baby was hysterical. I picked her up and held her for a minute, but that didn’t seem to do any good. I walked down the hall to our apartment, sat down on the living room floor with her, and attempted to calm her down, to no avail. She hadn’t calmed down a bit and I knew immediately that something was wrong. I began touching her foot gently, moving it around a bit, and she screamed at me. She broke her foot. I knew it, I just knew it.

I quickly stood up and packed us both back into the car and headed to the nearest emergency room. They took X-rays and I tried to keep her calm, which worked until she tried to stand on her foot again and realized how badly it hurt, then fell right back down. It was also way past her bedtime and being exhausted didn’t help matters whatsoever.

On the bright side, the X-ray showed no signs of any fractures, so they concluded that she severely sprained her ankle – a week and a half before our vacation, no less! That seems to be our luck. I’m glad she’s okay, though. That is not an experience I would like to relive anytime soon… or ever.