A letter to my son

Dear A,

I wanted to write to you as there has been so much attention paid to your sister recently.

Call it mommy guilt maybe.  But sometimes I think your sister gets more than her fair share of the attention.  She's not only the first grandchild...but the first girl.  But I don't ever want you to think you aren't loved.  Because oh, you are.  So much.

Our beginning together wasn't so good.  I had a rather hard time adjusting to you in our lives.  I couldn't see YOU through the illness and your colic was so bad.  And I was just so sick.  I didn't know it at the time, but it's so obvious looking back at it now.

But as you grow...I've fallen so much in love with you.  That doesn't mean there aren't moments when you frustrate the heck out of me.  But oh, that love is so overwhelming that it makes up for it.

I love how you are finding your "voice."  And that tiny voice that comes out of such a "big" boy.  Saying "uh-oh" when a monster truck flips over, or mommy and daddy drop something.  Your excited exclamations of "mommy!" or "daddy!" when you see one.  Calling out "Eeda!" when you want your sisters attention.

You frequently hand out hugs, just for no reason.  You crawl into my lap just to be close to me.  You hold my hand while you walk.  You try to share your paci's, toys, food, with me.  You are ever so interested in my camera.  You are my little shadow and want to be wherever I am.

I love you baby boy, and I can't imagine my life without you.

Letters to Our Daughter - September 15, 2013

Dear E,

So today kind of crept up on me.

You see, it's so hard to believe where we are.

4 years ago, I finally made one of the "final" milestones I was looking for with you.  You were viable.  If things went wrong now, I knew you'd have a good chance to live.  Wouldn't be the best odds...but at least you'd live.

Because after having lost two before you...I never believed I'd have you too.

And then...then you came.  So early and so small and I didn't know if I'd ever see the day that you'd walk.  Or talk.

Or go to school.

I worried.  As all moms do.  I wasn't sure you were ready.  You were excited and held no such qualms.  Didn't even notice when we left the room.

Your day must have been ok.  You didn't say much about it when you came home and you readily went back the next time.  I didn't get a call from the teacher (which I thoroughly expected.  Since, you know, you are so nice to your brother.)

You've had many firsts so far.  And many more to come.  And I'm excited and sad to see them all at once.

Love you baby girl.  For no matter how much I get angry at you.  Or how frustrated I get.  Or how big you get.  You will always be my baby girl.

To see other letters to our daughters, click here.

Letter to my daughter - August 15, 2013

Dear E,

I'll be honest with you.  I'm not sure what I am going to say or where I am going to go with this.  But I want you to know one thing beyond a doubt when you look back on this years from now.  Maybe I'm gone, maybe I'm still here.  Maybe you are looking at your own daughter or son and wondering what you were like when you were that age.  But I want you to know one simple thing.

I love you.

I may not love every single thing about you.  I may not love you at every moment.  Like the times you come up to me and scream in my face because I told you no.  Or the times you hit your brother.  Or the times you deliberately cross a line and watch me as you do, just so you can see if you get a reaction.

At those times I may want to just walk away and scream myself.

But I still love you.  And always will.

You and I, we will always clash our wills.  You see, you are just like me.  In temperament, in tenacity, in stubbornness.   And someday you and I both will be thankful for that.

But right now, I'll cringe as you yet again refuse your nap, or yank a toy from your brother, or scream in the hallway right outside your brother's room as he sleeps.

And I'll treasure the moments you come up to me and tell me you love me.  Or crawl into my lap while I'm working just to be with me.  Or demand that I take a picture of your car.

Seems like it was just yesterday we had our first fight, as you were determined to come into this world well before it was your time and I was just as determined to make sure you stayed put.  There will be many more to come.

To see more Letters to our daughters by other bloggers, click here.

Lots of upcoming challenges

In an effort to resurrect my blogging and combine it with my photography hobby, looks like I will be participating in a few "blogging circles."  So stay tuned...

In case you haven't been keeping up with me on facebook or g+, here are a few of my recent snapshots of our life.

A month of fun

I have to admit that I have stunk at blogging recently.  I'm pretty sure it's due to a couple of reasons.  1.  I have a new creative outlet, photography and 2. It's been just THAT crazy.

I won't promise to get better.  I doubt I could hold up that end of the bargain.  But I know I need to get back into the "swing" of getting my life on "paper."  Since I don't keep baby books, or journals, or anything like that.  I will need this to remember, 50 years from now, what life was like when we were small.

We just got back from our 2nd annual trek to see the balloons at my aunt's in Michigan.  It was awesome, we had a great time.  Even more fun than last year it seems.  We were older, more able to take in the sights and sounds and stay up later and truly enjoy all the activity.  It was a jam packed weekend full of balloons, boats, family and even trains!  I won't go into too much detail, and instead will let the photos tell the story. 

There comes a point

In every boy's life when he must face the inevitable.

That of the first haircut.

I expected him to be a bit more freaked out, but he handled it like a trooper.  Didn't shed one tear.  Instead just gave his daddy what his Aunt Jamee frequently refers to as the "stink eye."

I'm not sure what it is, but this haircut makes him seem much less like my "baby" any more.  He sure is growing up fast.

The end result.