Perhaps a letter to you in on a public blog is a little strange or cliche. Maybe I should have written this letter on some pretty paper and tucked it away for you to find and read someday. But letters get lost, and the internet seems to have caught on enough that I can place this here for you to find someday and learn a little about how your Momma felt in the days before Baby Brother came around.
Right now you are playing with a puzzle on the floor while singing "Jesus Loves Me" (a song that your Aunt Jen taught you and that you insist be sung to you by Momma at bedtime,..while you sing Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star simultaneously). You are always singing, playing superheroes, begging for crackers, a snack which we rarely even buy, and telling us all who we should pretend to be. "You be Mommy Batman, I'm Henry Batman, and he's Daddy Batman." You are brave enough to slide down any and every slide, a recent development. You say things every single day that have us wondering how you even understand communication so well. When you cry, you cry hard until you "feel better now" and "get all of my sads out". Also to note, the way you have been calling me "Mom-Mom" lately. So cute. All of it is so heart-meltingly adorable that I sometimes can't even stand it.
But what really has me thinking and reminiscing is the firsts. There are some that were documented with a picture, some that were just documented in our memories, and some that have floated away into the sleep-deprived great beyond. They were all, and continue to be one of the most amazing things that I have ever witnessed. Seems a bit dramatic or overstated, I'm sure. I mean, did I expect you to never get any teeth or walk or experience ice cream or spontaneously tell me that you loved me? Yet, with each of your firsts, big and small, I feel so lucky to have witnessed them.
Sometimes it can be hard being the firstborn. Your daddy and I both know that, being firstborns ourselves. It's scary to dive in to the unknown, to be the one that wants to follow the rules, to be the one that carries the responsibility of leading the younger siblings. I'm sure our siblings would describe this more as being "bossy", and they might be right. Most of all? You have the responsibility of teaching your Daddy and I how to be parents. How to live for something other than ourselves and our immediate desires. You were the one that spent the first sleepless nights with us. You were the one we had to buckle in to that carseat for the first time. You are the one who has to deal with our constant questioning of ourselves in the midst of limit-setting and toddler meltdowns. Honestly? You have handled it all so beautifully. You have forgiven in an instant, ready to hug the parents that have just turned off your favorite show or said no more cupcakes.
I think that you are going to do a great job being a big brother, Sweet Boy. You are so empathetic and observant. You can communicate your feelings. You are brilliant. You are obedient. You are kind. You are oh-so funny. You wake up in a good mood and go to bed smiling.
It's ok if these next few months are hard for you. Learning to share your world with another person usually is. But you know what, Henry? We'll all hold hands as we laugh and cry and stress and experience joy as we welcome your brother in to our family. The same way that we've done all the other firsts.
This is just another first with you.
Mom-Mom and Daddy Batman