By Laura Doran

Dear first-born,

I am so sorry we didn’t get to do everything on our bucket list before your brother was born. I was tired. I so wanted to get to every pumpkin patch and Christmas village while it was just the two of us. I hope all the beautiful, snuggly naps we took together were sufficient.

Dear second-born,

I’m sorry you don’t have a baby book. I’m sorry I only have 9,000 photos of you as a baby instead of 84,000. My phone was always full, and aintnobodygottime to back it up. As I scroll through my Insta, though, you were a beautiful newborn and I should have taken way more.

Dear first-born,

Thank you for teaching me that healthy food is best for littles, and screen time is to be avoided.

Dear second-born,

Thank you for teaching me that French fries still fill hungry tummies and that a well-timed episode of Thomas and Friends can restore my sanity.

Dear first-born,

Thank you for putting this love in my heart. Thank you for shifting who I was into who I am now.

Dear second-born,

Thank you for showing me that love and snuggles are far more important than a clean house, a rad outfit, or being up-to-date on whatever show I fell asleep to last night.

Dear first-born,

Thank you for teaching your brother to climb every surface known to man. Just kidding. Your big boy monkey body may be able to scale Everest, but his is still mostly baby. Why on EARTH is he constantly on the dining room table?!

Dear second-born,

Thank you for sitting patiently in my lap as I type this. Just kidding. You’re pressing every key you can get your adorable baby fingers on. You’re also reminding me that first-born never once got this close to a screen when he was your age. Great.

Dear first-born,

Thank you for giving me enough time to read one or two parenting books.

Dear second-born,

Thank you for teaching me I’m mostly good enough without them.

Dear second-born,

Thank you for letting me call you a baby even though you are clearly more of a toddler now.

Dear first-born,

Thank you for only correcting that lie I tell myself every other time.

Dear boys,

Thank you for being exactly who you are. I had visions of pink tights, ballet slippers and bunheads. But, my God, I wouldn’t trade you two for the world. I showed up to my 20-week sonogram to find out if you were a boy or a girl. Instead, I saw a stunning and functioning heart, 10 teeny tiny fingers, a little body in perpetual motion. You were both amazing. Then you joined our lives and have gotten even more amazing every day.

(Also, my dear boys, if for whatever reason you do want to wear pink tights and ballet slippers, you do you. Mama loves you no matter what.)

Dear boys,

Enough with the couch cushions already. Please leave the toilet paper on the roll. Give the middle-of-the-night wakeups a rest. And FOR THE LOVE OF GOLDFISH AND GRANOLA BARS, please stop accidentally head-butting me all the time. If all this is too much to ask, I get it. I’ll survive.

Dear boys,

Thank you for letting me love you so much. Thank you for forgetting the moments I suck at this. Thank you for your smiles and snuggles each morning. Thank you for eating your vegetables sometimes, for minding your manners sometimes, and for your enthusiastic belly laughs.

Dear third-born,

I hope I’m woman enough to add you to this circus one day. These first two are giving me a run for my money right now, and I want to be a “good enough” mom. If it works out, I have every confidence you’ll be just as perfect (and imperfect!) as your big brothers. If we’re ever so blessed, I know the love in our family will expand to cover you, too.

Originally posted on FIT4MOM.

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