Here you'll find current musings, as well as the archives from two blogs of yesteryear: YoungMarriedMom and What I Learned While Writing a Novel. Please comment and share. We love well when we are in conversation with one another.
Dear Jacob,
In other people’s words, very soon, you’re going to be a big brother. In my mind, you are a big brother, both to Ethan and to Henry. Still, there is a big change afoot. Sometimes I worry about how you’ll handle the shift in attention. Then I remember that you are the most relaxed, chillest person I know. You are the epitome of the phrase “roll with the punches.”
When we switched you to a toddler bed a few weeks ago, I worried about how you’d handle it. For two weeks, we let you go through your whole routine in the bed, then switched you to your crib when you asked, right before we left. I couldn’t figure out how to convince you to stay in your bed; you always asked for the crib. One day I told you you were going to take your nap in your big boy bed. When we talked about it, you fussed. But once it was time to do it, you got in and slept for half an hour longer than you usually do! I should have known that your verbal protests usually aren’t a measure of what you intend to do. Any other big change we’ve experienced—moving, for example—you barely noticed happened. Now I know to expect that you’ll be just fine in a transition. My worries are ungrounded and unnecessary.
I don’t know if you totally understand how life’s going to change once Henry’s born. Then again, neither do I. You have learned to say sweet things about your little brother, though. You give my belly hugs and will kiss my belly button (to make sure it gets directly through to Henry). You say that you’re going to share your toys with Henry. A few weeks back, we were talking about Henry and you said, “Wait. Henry.” I asked if you were waiting to play with Henry, and you said yes. You are being very patient about it.
We recently learned that Henry will be born before Christmas! The news has certainly shifted my attitude, and I think that’s making things a little easier on you. Sunday morning over breakfast I asked if you would like to have a little brother for Christmas. Your eyes lit up and you said, “Yes!” I just about melted in my chair. I can’t wait for you to meet him, for him to meet you.
I don’t know that I will do everything right in your interest once Henry’s born. I’m certain I won’t! But know that I am going to try, and I hope you will forgive me where I mess up. Henry is a blessing to each of us, just as you are blessing to each of us.
You are my special little guy, and you always will be—even when you’re way taller than me and even if you end up only having brothers. Thank you for embracing this new member of our family already. Things won’t always be easy in these next few months, but I know that our family is a team, and with the grace of God, we will find joy in every day ahead.
With all my love,
Mom
P.S. This is irrelevant, but a funny exchange we had the other day that I don’t want to forget. You’d just gotten up from a nap, during which I had made muffins. When I showed them to you, so said they were cookies. I corrected you, and told you they were muffins. As we were eating, we had this conversation:
Me: Jacob, is that banana or pumpkin?
You *look at me, confused*: Muffin.
Me: Right, but it’s a banana muffin.
You: Oh, I see.
I love when you speak like an old man!