The No. 3

Dear Jack,

My tiniest love.
Tomorrow you will be the number free.
I've spent the past couple weeks in a state.
Mainly wondering about the world.
And what it will look like when its handed over to you.
You built an ocean out of legos today.
It was beautiful with all different colors of blue, white and light blue.
You worked for a long time, carefully covering the board.
Expanding your ocean.
Making is bigger. Vaster.
I wanted to badly to scoop you and your brother up -
And sail away to somewhere safe on that little tiny red lego canoe.
Just away.
This isn't a world I'm prepared to hand over to you.
Not like this.

While the world is engaged in hate and unkindness currently,
I'm the most thankful for you.
That you don't know what skin color is.
That you see mommy and daddy as equals.
That people loving people, having moms and dads
or two moms or two dads
is something completely natural and normalized to you.
That you say sorry when someone is hurt,
even when its not your fault.
That you help other children that have fallen down.
That for all of your stubborn and sass
you have a heart of gold.
I'm grateful in these days you are blissfully unaware.
That your biggest concern is finding the last chocolate granola bar,
or packing your garbage truck with scrap pieces of paper you have me rip up.

And while you are busy jumping out of trees,
and off couches,
and swings,
and taking steps two, three at a time,
I promise I'll keeping working to make this world one you're proud to be a part of.

In the meantime keep loving olives.
And zambonis and dogs and trains and the color yellow.
Continue to eat the crap out of pizza and ice cream.
Keep your passion for hockey, and goal horns
and knowing lyrics of movies and songs we didn't even realize you memorized.
Enjoy dancing on the couch naked.
Or running out of the house naked.
Or generally just being naked.
Its good to be comfortable in your own skin.

But most importantly,
and this is truly important ...
Keep being my habitual shit starter.
Continue to be the kid that doesn't take no as an answer lying down.
As your mom I'm telling you now its mentally exhausting BUT
I know it will pay off one day.
The world will need strong minded, smart,
stubborn people like you one day.
That see no color.
That see no religion.
That see everyone as equal.
That see love as love, no matter what.
The world needs children like you,
that will one day grow into adults like you,
that will break down walls.
That will create oceans large and vast.

Happy No. 3 Jack,
I love you too much.
Mom







This year you completely potty trained
This year you started preschool
This year you had surgery on your wonky eye
You love olives and apples and bananas,
and donuts and pizza and french fries.
Your favorite color is yellow.
You obsess over trains and garbage trucks.
You love listening to hockey teams different goal horns and goal songs.
You put yourself in time out when you hit your brother, because you obviously feel it was worth it.
You don't like broccoli or lets just be honest most things. You're picky.
You have this bad habit of spitting out whatever you don't like, wherever you are, into whatever you find.
You love dogs and your brother and guitars and rock n roll.
You say things like "you're killing me!" and "I love you tooooo much.
You have killer dimples.
You are very sassy.
I love you very very very much despite that.

Seven years

Dear Sully,

Tomorrow morning you’ll be turning seven.

This past year you’ve lost a lot of teeth.

Six to be exact. Two the year prior.

Your teeth have become an odd marker of time for me.

They are a daily reminder of an ever changing landscape of your face.

Of time.

Of its passage and its growth.

Of your passage and growth.

I can still see your toothless smile like it was yesterday.

And your two front teeth budding through – and poking in.

Your full, round, cherub face.

The large gap between your two front teeth.

Then a full mouth of teeth that followed next.

I cried when that first bottom tooth fell out.

It felt as though I had just welcomed this new face –

This face full of teeth that has pressured me into saying farewell to the baby years.

Hello toddler years. Hello preschool years.

And then that stupid tooth. Gone. Nudging me to say farewell yet again.

A sharp reminder that this all is just temporary.

You will change. You will grow.

It’s just how it us.

Your second tooth eventually met the same fate as the first, despite my protests.

Again, the beginning of a new face.

That second tooth a faint whisper and sharp reminder.

I would soon be saying farewell to the face I'd grown to know.

Through preschool.

Through kindergarten.

Because you will change. You will grow.

It’s just how it is.

Another phase.

Another face.

Your third tooth. And fourth. Then the fifth.

The sixth and the seventh.

The eighth.

I winced each time they fell out like flies.

Rapid fire.

Such a funny thing to feel sad about.

I’m learning this new landscape – this gauge, this map of time.

All on your face.

Learning to let go of the baby, the toddler, the preschooler, the kindergartener.

Learning to say hello and embrace the boy –

Who will become a tween. A teenager.

A young man.

Because you will change. You will grow.

It’s just how it is.

It’s a strange and wonderful place to be …

Seeing reflections of the baby you were

And the young man you’re turning into.

All at once.  

It’s in the dimple of your eye when you smile and laugh really hard.

I can almost hear your baby belly laugh if I closed my eyes.

But your teeth –

Those large white markers of time protruding from a sharp jaw line.

Filled in eyebrows.

Thinning out cheeks.

It’s a constant reminder of who you are becoming.

Who you are. Who you will be.

The first words that have given way to jokes at the dinner table.

First steps that have become bikes without training wheels.

Drawings on the wall that have become notes from friends tucked away in backpacks.

Nursery rhymes that have become air guitar rock solos on the couch.

Cuddles that have turned into tender moments between brothers.

And not so tender ones.

Bath times that have become showers.

Mamas that have grown into just moms.

Night time lullabies that have become scarcely requested.

Gummy smiles that have turned into permanent teeth.

Passage and phases.

Changes and growth.

It stinks at times.

It’s exciting at times.

But never be afraid of change or to change.

Never be afraid to grow, in so many ways.

Because you will change.

Because you will grow.

It’s just how it is.

Happy 7^th birthday Sully.

Love you to the moon and stars, always.

Mom

Jack: Two Years

I’m sitting here, again.

On the Eve of yet another birthday,

that seems entirely too implausible to even be.

Two years my love. My baby boy.

They keep telling me you’re no longer one, a baby.

You can be 30 years old and 6 feet tall – I don’t care.

You’ll still be my baby.

Our little book-end.

 

You’re my rough and tumble,

You’re my kick ass and take names taker,

My do first and think later. 

You're my bump & bruiser,

My leap off the couch-er,

My climb the highest slide-er,

My jump off three stairs-er,

My find me standing in the window sill-er.

 

You’re my I can do it, no-no wagging finger in the air kid,

My tantrum thrower world is ending screamer kid.

You’re my draw on the shelves and your face kid.

My run away from me in a store kid.

You’re my flush Legos down the toilet and go fishing with your hairbrush kid -

‘Gonna put soap on like lotion and brush my teeth with it kid.

My scream until you come get me kid.

My fine, I'll just get out of my crib, stroller, car-seat kid.

You’re my bridges are too big for you kid.

Stop trying to grow up so fast kid, kid.

 

You’re a run for my money

And a heart attack once a day boy.

But you’re also my hug like you mean it boy.

My laugh so hard you fall over boy.

My giggling in circles, whirlwind lover boy.

You’re my adore your big brother more than anything boy,

And my sweet singing and dancing boy.

My passionate boy. My fearless boy.

My get out of my face if I don't know you boy.

My kisses Everly goodbye boy, always makes sure she doesn't cry, boy.

You're my rain boots and Ruff Ruff and Quickie and blanket boy.

My hockey outside till its dark boy.

My I’d rather be naked and eat dirt boy ...

My swim in the bathtub and eat bubbles boy.

Blueberries on your face fist full of candy boy.

Garbage trucks and trains and airplanes boy.

 

You’re my night time cuddles with mama baby,

My eyes are brighter than the blue sky baby.

You're my towhead, my dimples, my watch the sun come up coffee baby.

My heart has expanded by 100x it's size, baby.

You've been my lesson,

My teacher,

My quest of patience.

My count to 10's and deep breaths.

My humbling moments.

My worth more than gold moments.

My morning hellos.

My third time falling in love.

My heart, spitfire and all -

On the outside of my chest.

And now

My two year old.

To the moon & the stars Jackie, always.

Happy birthday baby boy.

Mama

Six

Another year gone by.

It seems impossible,

But I know enough to know

I should be use to it by now.

But you never really do,

Get use to it I suppose.

Six years ago

My entire world burst open.

In the single act of you taking breath.

And it's never been the same.

Six years, my love.

I wondered in those first moments,

Who you would be. Who you were.

Six years, my love.

Watching you grow up,

It pulls at my heart strings sometimes.

I think it always will.

But I couldn't ask for anything better.

This adventure. 

Watching your world grow.

It's exciting and sad all at once.

There will always be times I miss

Your tiny voice,

Your mispronunciation of elephant,

You fitting nice and neat in my arms,

The smell of baby wash in your hair,

The way you would fall asleep against me.

And then there's times like today.

Your teacher called you a gentleman.

You let a girl go ahead of you.

And it makes me so incredibly proud to be your mom.

You're funny. You're kind.

You're empathetic and encouraging.

You're a patient and loving brother.

You're loud, and crazy, and sassy.

You're inquisitive and smart.

(You could stand to be a little more humbled about it.)

You're sweet. You're sensitive. And helpful. And stubborn. And meaningful.

I couldn't ask for a better son.

Loving you is easy and effortless.

Its in everything your dad and I do.

Liking you, really liking you,

That's been a wonderful bonus.

Happy 6th Birthday Sully.

Jax 1st Birthday

Every year on the night before the boy's birthdays, I write them a letter. It started for each of them on the night before their births. I save them all to give to them one day.

My dear sweet Jack Wilingham,

My Jack-Jack.

My Jaxie.

My Jackaroo.

You were the one I thought would never be.

I had resigned myself to it.

And yet here you are.

So full of life, that sometimes –

It seems so much bigger than what your little body can hold.

Can contain.

It’s like you came out knowing you were our lives

Greatest Surprise.

It leaves me speechless.

Breathless.

In awe.

You’re magnetic.

It pours out of you.

Through your eyes.

They radiate like blue sunbursts.

Through your smile.

It makes people forget the toughest of days.

You posses the art of drawing people in.

It’s magical my love.

Your brother has taught me compassion.

To speak gently. With great thought.

To live with empathy. With kindness. With intent.

To learn to be still. To be at peace.

To love without limits.

Without conditions.

If he is my heart, than you my love -

You are my soul.

You’ve shown me the beauty in reckless abandon.

In leaping first and thinking later.

Approaching life with great wonder.

With great patience.

With deep rooted happiness.

With excitement for the unknown.

Letting go of what we have no control over.

You’ve taught me how to be present.

To live in the now.

You never think before you do. You just do.

That use to terrify me.

But I realize now what a blessing living that way can be.

I love that about you.

I envy that about you.

It can be loud.

It can be messy.

It’s not always pretty.

You exhaust boundaries.

You push limits.

It’s intense. You’re intense.

You live big my love. You love big.

In everything you do.

But I never want you to lose that.

You’re going to achieve wonderful things because of it.

I fell in love all over again the day you were born.

And every day since.

Happy 1^st Birthday Jax.

I love you.

Thanks for being our bookend.

We needed it. More than you will ever know.
Xoxo
-Mom

At one you are ….

Saying Mama, Dada, Brother, Nene, Pop-pop, Yaya, dog, up, no-no, love you, bye-bye.

You sign “More”, “Hungry/Eat”, “All done”

You eat everything and some of your favorites are cheerios, chicken, eggs, bananas, cheese.

You’ll attack someone for ice cream.

You prefer to drink out of a cup.

You’re starting to walk.

Your favorite activities are ramming your baby walker into everything including your brother, stealing his hockey guys, eating the dog food, climbing up the stairs when nobody is looking, jumping on the couch, standing on chairs to get to things we’ve obviously mistakenly put up high, unplugging things, biting the dog, talking on the phone, pretending to read books, drawing on your face with markers, singing with your daddy, playing in water not limiting yourself to the toilet or dog bowl, playing peek-a-boo, playing hockey, watching hockey, waving bye-bye, and wrestling your brother.

Everything goes into your mouth. Everything.

You dislike the dark, being told no, being confined, avocadoes, pacifiers, baby gates, your crib, socks, swings, things that are sour, anything on your head, being put down and diapers.

You still have no hair.

You do have 6 teeth though.

You wear size 18-24 months clothing.

You adore your brother and love your little cousin.

You’re pretty awesome. I think you’re secretly a superhero. 

11 months

One of those nights I'm having a hard time convincing myself to put you down.

And do things.

Things I should be doing, but I'm not.

I can't believe you'll be a year soon.

Too soon.

I'm not sure where it's gone.

Somewhere I imagine.

I'm sorry I don't write more.

I'm simply too busy loving on you boys.

I love you Jax.

More than words on paper.

Five things they don't tell you in all the baby books

A little background. My sister had a baby today. My first niece. Its kind of a big deal. =) There are seven years that separate my sister and I. I married young, when she was just 14 years old. I didn't have children until later in my marriage, my sister got pregnant early on in hers. As the universe would have it, our babies are 10 months a part. Well my younger baby anyways. Between a span of 5 years, we now have 3 children. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought we would be raising our babies, together. The kids I thought that would be mine and teenagers when my sister's came along, will now run in the same friendship circles, start school at the same time and reach lifelong milestones, together. Their memories will be of each other, growing up side by side. I'm extremely proud of everything my sister accomplished today. Bringing a new life into this world is no small feat. It reminded me of 10 short months ago, sitting in the same hospital one room over from my sister's, holding my second son. It seems forever ago and yesterday all at once. Time is funny that way ... 

In short, Sissy, welcome to the parent club. I can't wait to take all the little heathens camping. This ones for you.

Welcome to the lifelong art of winging it .... 

You're going to get home a little shell shocked that the hospital just handed you a baby, your baby, and didn't require you to take a test or show identification or at least make sure you can recite the ABC nursery rhyme before sending you packing. You'll place her down gently for the first time in her nursery you spent months agonizing over, and as you huddle around her bassinet staring down at the wonder that is now her, you realize, I don't have a fucking clue what I'm doing. Don't panic. Neither do any of the rest of us. As a parent you become an aficionado in the lifelong art of winging it. I can't count the amount of times Shaun has looked at me and said "What do we do, WHAT DO WE DO, this is your area!" to which I've replied "I've got nothing man. I've got nothing! Google it!" It's a scary place to come to the realization; I. Know. Nothing. But it's also a beautiful place. You will learn more about yourself, your relationships with others and what you are truly capable of, more than you ever thought possible, in this place. Allow yourself room to grow, to bend, to learn and expand. You’ll learn to think out of the box, go with the flow and improvise. And laugh. Laugh a lot. It will save your sanity.

Opinions are like assholes ... 

Everyone has one, especially when it comes to babies. From that sweet old lady in the check-out line to young kids, everyone will have something to say about what you’re doing, and 99% of the time it will be because you’re not doing it their way. Do yourself a favor and save yourself a lot of grief by following these 3 simple steps; 1. Smile 2. Nod 3. Say thank you. People love to … “help” … and for the most part its harmless. People are going to give you their opinions, good or bad, A LOT. You can't sweat it. Ever. Just, don’t even worry about a response. Honestly, it’s not worth it unless you feel like debating with a 5 year old for 10 minutes why you aren’t changing his brother’s diaper the right way. Take what you want and leave what you don't at the wayside. Ultimately you're going to find what works best for your family and do what you want anyways, but they don't need to know that. Just smile, and nod and plan your grocery list in your head while they talk. Multitasking!

Speaking of opinions, let her eat the skittles ... 

For god sakes, just let them eat the skittles every now and then. As a parent you're going to see the world in a completely different way. Everything becomes a hazard, potential danger, threat ... EVERYTHING. And I can think of about a million worse things (war, pedophiles, choking hazards, drugs, running with scissors, threatening dogs, car accidents, the opposite sex, illness, underage drinking, Miley Cyrus) then letting them eat what they want from time to time. I'm here to help them make good choices, not police them. Remember, a little red dye from time to time never killed anybody and what others (coughgrandparentscough) choose to give them isn't a reflection of you as a parent. Grandma use to keep candy stocked in her trunk. You would have been sad if mom and dad would have denied you trunk candy. Everyone needs a little trunk candy in their life. Let her have some trunk candy every now and then.

You're going to learn more by being wrong ... 

Than you ever will in the times you are right. Becoming a parent was and is the most humbling experience I have ever encountered in my life. You will never so quickly pick a part your own flaws and question every part of your being as you will now. You'll re-examine who you are through the eyes of this new little person and sometimes it will be depressing, make you want to cry and eat an entire pint of Ben & Jerry's. It will be easy at times to beat yourself up over things, to realize after the fact there were a thousand different ways you could have handled a situation. But as Elsa and Anna would say, let it go, let it go! This entire thing is one big giant learning curve. Be okay with admitting your wrongs when they happen. I've had my fair share of sit downs with my tail between my legs when I apologized for the way I said or reacted to the way the kiddos did or said something. Everyone makes mistakes. It’s how we deal with the aftermath that develops and strengthens our characters. Be okay with letting them see that. Even when they're reminding you for the millionth time "about that one time when you yelled at me but I didn't do it and you made me cry and were kind of mean and then you said sorry and I said it was okay because I'm nice, right mom? Do you remember that mom? When you were mean? And I cried? Do you remember mom and you yelled, loud. Really loud, remember mom?" Humble pie man.

This is the hardest job you will ever have ... 

But by no means is it a sacrifice. A sacrifice implies that you gave up something better in the place of parenthood. And while we give up a lot (sleep, traveling with only a carry-on, movies without cartoon characters, eating meals that last longer than 5 minutes, going to the bathroom by ourselves, uninterrupted phone conversations, our youth, our sanity ...) there isn't anything I can think of that could possibly have ever been any better than these boys in my messy house that hang out in the bathroom reading books and singing songs while I shower and that take over my bed every night. They’ve taken over my life, in the very, absolute best way possible. Theres going to be beautiful highs and extreme lows, sometimes all within a 10 minute span of one another. There will be moments you feel as though you can't breathe from the stress or frustration or lack of sleep of it all and times you feel as though you can’t breathe from the awe and wonder and love in it all. You will simultaneously beg time to speed up and slow down. You'll be the first one up and the last to sleep. You'll also always be the last one to eat so just get use to it now. Nothing will ever be sacred on your plate again. There will be times when all you want to be is alone and times you will feel nothing but alone. It’s not always kittens and rainbows and mom’s smiling on the cover of those parenting magazines. It’s more like kittens shitting out rainbows all over themselves and onto that clean sheet you just changed for the 10^th time and that clean shirt you just put on. But its also fun, and comical and endearing. Its first words and steps and belly laughs. Its fort building, sand in their toes and watching them see the ocean for the first time. Its silly jokes, broken furniture, messy houses and chocolate milk mustaches. Its first goals, planting sunflowers and watching them make friendships, turn into little independent people and grow. It's boo-boo kisses, dates at the zoo and the smell of a baby sleeping on your chest that smells of sunscreen after a day in the pool. Its singing first songs, first Christmases, first crushes and knowing that it won't last forever. It's a hard job, in so many ways. As parents we learn to constantly toe that fine line of parenting within and without of the boundaries, we teach and learn, lead by example and sometimes by not-such-good-examples. (Remember when S. went through his shit and damnit phase?!) We love and love while learning to let go, a little bit at a time. The best compliment I ever received from S. was him telling me I was the silliest and funniest mom he knew. Don't ever take this job so seriously that you forget to have fun. Its the best part about it. And they're pretty good about not letting us forget it.

Remember, parenthood is truly a journey. Sometimes you land right where you expect when you expect to. Other times, not so much. Be okay with going off the beaten path at times, detouring when it calls for it. The ride can seem long at times. The road will look uncertain in places. There will be stretches you're unable to see what lays ahead. But this ride, it's a beautiful one. Don't become so consumed with reaching the destination that you forget to look out the windows from time to time. It's a breathtaking view. I promise.

Enjoy where it leads you all. Always.