Dearest Ellery Jean,
I seriously do not know how we got here. So fast. This past year has flown by. I partially blame myself; I feel I have missed some time with you. I have been so set in my pursuit for my professional career and all that comes with it. I feel like you and I haven’t had the serious Mommy and Me time I had with your older sister. This is for a variety of factors, including the fact that your sister was always sick. I had to learn her inside and out. I had to know her entire being like it was my own. You? No way. I trust you. Far more, I think, than anyone should trust a toddler. Especially a toddler with your grin, giggle, and that glint of ornery behind those baby blues you sport. I guess I trust you to always be you and be healthy and happy because it’s all I ever wanted after the ordeals with Caelan. I trust you to not hurt yourself, to be okay when you fall, and to be resilient because your sister, though stronger, still seems so fragile. Maybe all parents of two allow the second to kind of just be. But I don’t know. I haven’t had two before. And soon, we shall have three. But that’s not what this is about. I suppose it isn’t fair to you that I trust you as much as I do; it’s a lot of responsibility for you. Now, that is not to say I won’t cuddle you, snuggle you, or hold you while you cry. But I just always trust that you’ll bounce back. And you always do. We prayed for you; you may not understand fully, but you were an answer to a prayer I used to whisper. “Please God, just make this baby healthy. Make her eat. Make her laugh and smile and be okay. Just make her okay.”
And you are more than okay. You are brilliant. You are hilarious. You absolutely make me split my sides every single day. At least ten times. Your laughter and energy is infectious. And smart. Oh are you ever. You are smarter than your sister was at this age, which we never could have believed. You just “know” things. Your vocabulary gets bigger every single day. You repeat everything you hear, both good and bad. You like to sing Lady Gaga songs, which I am fine with. You dance and twirl, spin and swirl all the time. You have changed me, changed the way I thought I would parent, and challenged me to learn to just give in a little. You ask for more snacks, I give them to you. You want one more snuggle? You got it. I have learned to breathe with you. I can be a mom and not be worried and stressed about you. And for that, I thank you. This past year has been so fun, so adventurous, and so new with you. We went to the beach, we went on day trips, you explored and you learned. You flew in an airplane to Texas! You’ve grown and changed so much…You got to experience some amazing things, and you did all of it with your best friend, Caelan, right beside you. NO one on this planet will ever love you like she does. Not the new baby, not even Mommy and Daddy. You two have something special; please promise me you will hold onto it. You follow her around, discovering who you are through her, doing what she does, every single day. You now share a room, and that only serves to strengthen your bond. I can’t put into words how watching you two together makes me feel inside, but I can tell you it is pride and love beyond that which I have ever known.
You eat. You dance. You play. You sing. You love books. Your favorite phrase right now is, “read to me, please.” And I am never too busy to oblige. I hope you know how much you mean to me. I promise you, in the year(s) to come, I will be more present for you. I am slowing down my workload. I am pulling in my oars, and this will only serve to make me a better mom. I will be home more. I will dance more. Laugh more. Read more. You have shown me how important it is. Your personality and persistence have made me see things in a new way. It doesn’t matter who I am professionally; if I am not the best mom you deserve, than all of this means nothing. So this is my vow. To be here. For you. For Caelan. For the new baby. I will not fail you; I only get one shot at this. I can’t blow it. I won’t.
Two years old is a big deal. I hope it’s not the terrible twos, but hey if so, I know how to handle it. However, every time I think that I have it figured out, you show me how polar opposite two kids can be. You are nothing like your sister while being so much like her it’s scary. It’s hard to explain. You just are definitely your own person. You are so very much like your Daddy. This is a good thing; I chose him to be your daddy after all. I see him in you more and more. And it just makes me so happy. You are going to be potty training soon, like real potty training with Big Girl Panties. You are ready. Stubborn. But ready. In June, you will be a big sister. And this will open up whole new worlds for you. I hope you handle it as well, and with as much joy and love, as your sister has. You have a good example to follow. The best.
Two will bring new things for you. New adventures. New challenges. But two will be uniquely yours, as your whole life has been. You will make two fabulous, this I know. You will settle for nothing short of awesome and amazing. You never do. I want you to know how much your daddy and I love you. We are so proud of the little girl you are becoming. And we cannot wait for all of the fun to come with our brand new two year old. Two years ago tonight, I was anticipating your arrival. Birthing you was not the most fun ever. But, it sure was worth every single minute. And with every passing day, with every goodnight kiss and snuggle, with every smile and laugh, I remember over and over how honored I am to even know you, let alone have you call me Mommy. I love you, Ellery Jean JellyBean. And remember, I will love you forever. I will like you for always. As long as I’m living, my baby you’ll be. Happy Birthday *tomorrow*. I hope your Pizza Party is as much fun as it can be for you. I know it will be. Nothing but the best for our little lady.