Dear Little One,
I see you. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch you rolling over. While I’m busy picking up the fruit your brother has scattered across the floor, I can’t help but think, “Well done! I’m so proud of you!” But did I actually say it out loud? Did those words reach you?
I just placed you on your play mat for the second time today, intending to join you for a little chat about the vibrant shapes and colors surrounding us. But then your brother goes quiet, and my instincts kick in—I need to check on him. Sure enough, he’s turned his snack into a colorful puddle on the floor. As I try to clean it up, I can hear your sweet coos in the background, but my focus is on teaching your brother about responsibility.
When your coos turn into cries, I realize I’ve left you waiting for my comfort as I set your brother up with a new game. I pick you up mindlessly, pop a pacifier into your mouth, and begin naming the animals in his puzzle. I glance at the clock and see that it’s time for your first nap. I rush to your room, change your diaper, place you in your crib, and scoop up your brother as I exit. Did I even say “sweet dreams” or “I love you”? My thoughts are interrupted by tripping over a toy, and I’m onto the next task on my seemingly endless to-do list.
Throughout the day, while nursing you, I’m catching up on emails and reminding your brother not to climb the stairs or bang on the walls. Our nursing sessions lack the peaceful intimacy that I once shared with your brother; it’s all about efficiency now.
As I prepare dinner, I’m juggling multiple responsibilities, trying to figure out when your father will arrive home. You’re seated in your exersaucer, quietly playing. I check on you, show you how to press the buttons, and then dash back to help your brother with his fork skills.
I can’t help but reflect on how, when it was just me and your brother, I would sing and dance while cooking, engaging him completely. With you, my attention is scattered, and I start to feel like I’m failing in my role as a mother. I find myself praying for you to be just as brilliant and capable as your sibling, hoping my lack of individual time with you won’t affect you emotionally.
Just then, your dad walks in, and I exhale in relief. He greets your brother and comes over to you. You light up with joy, your dimples showing and a grin stretching across your face. My heart swells with gratitude for a husband who cherishes our family. But then a wave of sadness washes over me as I wonder if I’ve made you smile today. I recall the laughter I shared with your brother, but did I bring you joy today?
Evening arrives swiftly. We’re tidying up toys, washing dishes, and getting ready for bath time. I lay you on the floor while I scramble to fill a sippy cup with milk, grab a pacifier, and pick out pajamas. I dress you quickly, turn on the fan, and head to your brother’s room for storytime before calling it a night.
That night, during our final feeding, I cradle you and say our prayers. Your dad kisses your forehead, and I tiptoe down the hallway with you in my arms. I kiss your cheek softly, whispering “I love you” before laying you down for the night. As I close the door, I pause and smile, feeling accomplished for making it through another day of parenting. I join your dad, sharing the amusing events of the day before treating myself to a well-deserved sweet.
As I settle into bed, thoughts of you occupy my mind. I pray for you and your brother, asking God for the grace and patience to be the best mom I can be. Somewhere between my thoughts, I drift off, worrying if I’m giving you everything you need and if you truly feel the love I hold for you.
So here’s my promise: I am immensely proud of you. Today, you rolled over, reached for a toy successfully, and even managed to fall asleep on your own. You’ve amazed me from day one. You are one of the happiest babies I know. Honestly, your easygoing nature is a blessing, and I’m eternally grateful for it. Your smile brightens my day, and I want you to know that the glider in your room is my favorite spot in the house. During those quiet afternoons when you and your brother are napping, I find peace there, rocking gently and listening to your rhythmic breaths.
It’s strange to think about life before you. You’ve completed me in ways I never knew were possible. Moving forward, I promise to devote more time to you. Whether that’s sharing an extra bedtime story, singing a silly song, or simply rocking you a little longer in my arms, I will make the effort to show you my love. I hope you will come to understand the depth of my affection for you. Know that in every task I tackle—whether it’s paying bills, cleaning up toys, or doing laundry—you are always in my thoughts. I see you.
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