Dear Kids,
I want to take a moment to remind you just how much I love you. It’s a love that matches the affection I have for your little brother, Charlie, who has special needs and often requires a bit more of my time and attention. I see the way you cherish him, and it fills my heart with joy. The love that flows between the three of you is truly remarkable, and Charlie thrives on your hugs, shared treats, and playful games of tag. He may not speak much, but his playful growls and contagious laughter, paired with those adorable blue glasses, say it all. You think he’s amazing, just as I do.
I understand that this situation can be frustrating. I’ve heard your sighs when I say, “I have to help Charlie right now” or “I can’t go; I need to stay home with Charlie.” I used to be the adventurous one, the mom who climbed to the top of sand dunes overlooking the ocean and zipped down slides at amusement parks. These days, I often feel like I’ve traded in that adventurous spirit for a life filled with the responsibilities of caring for a nearly three-year-old who still can’t express his needs and has the speed of a cheetah when it comes to running away.
I’m doing my best to divide my time among all of you. Do you see my efforts? Sometimes it’s not just about Charlie; sometimes I just want to be a regular mom, one who enjoys chatting with friends at the pool instead of counting headstands. I want you to know I’m still here for you, too.
When your dad is away, I make sure to share my bed with one of you. I love those moments when we lie together and talk about everything and nothing. I hear you asking why we haven’t gone out to dinner more often. Did you know we’ve been out twice in the last two weeks just for you? I even arranged for a babysitter so we could build sandcastles without interruptions and swim out past the waves while watching you catch some surf. I want to be that adventurous mom you once knew.
Being a mom is a tough gig, and I’m really trying my hardest. You mean the world to me, and I want to be there to hold your hands, smooth back your messy hair, slather zinc on your noses, and pull you into my arms for those long, comforting hugs.
Please remember that I’m always here, and if you ever feel like I’m distant, just tell me! I know I mess up sometimes, and I can be a bit selfish with my time, but I promise to keep improving. Charlie is just one part of my heart, while you three are the ones who truly shaped my experience of motherhood.
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In summary, you are my everything, and I’m doing my best to balance the needs of our family. Your patience and love mean the world to me.