I feel very fortunate that I’m a mother and I feel lucky that I’m a mother to my son. He’s spunky and lively and makes me laugh every day. I’m anxious and excited to add another child to our family but I know it means change is on the horizon for my son, and for us. In the spirit of documentation, I want to remember these feelings, leave a record of memories for my first-born and promise my son that not everything will change, at least not forever. 

You can read letters one, two and three here.

Dear Javi,

In a week or less, you’ll become a brother. That’s a big deal. This is new for you, and as an only child, this is totally new territory for me, too. Of course, I know how to take care of more than one child at a time. But I don’t know the ins and outs of parenting two – having a son AND a daughter or an oldest AND a youngest. But we’ll ride this wave together. It’ll be a learning curve. And I know, we’ll make some mistakes along the way. So, before we jump on the crazy train that is “having a newborn in the house” — I want to jot down a few things about our lives together — you, me and Daddy and make you some promises.

First, let’s talk about you, my son.

You’re 28 months old; you’re witty, funny, silly and amazing. You love Mickey Mouse and counting to 13. You love books and learn new words every day. With each conversation I’m more and more impressed by you. You’re artistic and creative, self-driven and independent. You’re a leader and love being with other children. Your smile is infectious and you’re always on the move. You have a spark in your eyes. You’re strong-willed and love doing things for yourself, by yourself (this becomes a problem when safety is a concern). But you teach me something new every day. You’re the best kind of child — the perfect son — and for all these reasons, and more, I know you’ll be a great brother.

Now, let’s talk about you and me, my first.

Oh, how much I love you. You’re my son, my kid and you made me a mom which is just about the best thing in the world.

I tell you “I love you” a thousand times a day. Sometimes I give you so many kisses, you wipe them away. When we watch TV together, I ask to hold your hand and sometimes you let me. But when we’re out and about, you always put your hand up to hold mine and every time, every time, my heart bursts a little inside. I can’t explain how it feels when I hear you call me “mama” (though sometimes when you say it over and over… and over again — I do ask you to stop) but honestly, those two syllables are my favorite thing you say. You make me feel special and loved and every day I try to return those feelings to you. I’ve loved our 28 months together.

We’re a great family of 3.

Daddy and I have this parenting thing down. We’re comfortable. We share responsibilities and our house runs like clockwork. We play together, go for family outings, cuddle on the couch, build with blocks and trains, read a hundred books a day, run errands, sit down for dinner at 6:00 every night, and get you ready and off to bed. We’ve traveled together, we’ve been on trains and planes and boats. We’ve kept a decent record of your firsts, have taken a million photos and videos of you and have catered our house TO and FOR you, for the past 28 months. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Some things are about to change, for a bit.

I’m no parenting expert, but I’ve read enough to know that having two children at home mixes things up a bit. I’m sure, for a bit anyway, we’ll have even more TV time, later dinners, missed bedtimes and less travels. I think, anyway, with a newborn and winter, we’ll stay indoors, run fewer errands and maybe even get a bit stir crazy. We’ll have midnight wake-ups, quieter dance parties, and the word “gentle” will be said many, many times. For a bit at least, mama and daddy will have to divide and conquer — so you’ll have one of us but maybe not both, at the same time like you’re used to.

But here’s what won’t change.

My promises to you are these: I promise to still play trains and blocks. And to read to you every day. I promise to dance with you and sing (even though you tell me not to). We’ll sit down for dinner together every night even if it is at a later time and I promise to get back to giving you baths and to let you splash in the tub. I promise that we’ll travel as soon as we can and we’ll get you to all 50 states. We’ll continue to take pictures and videos of you every day and keep your room and playroom places that are fun FOR YOU and exciting FOR YOU and where you want to spend time.

I promise to show you patience, and kindness and fairness. I’ll be the mom you need me to be; to step back when it’s okay and to move forward when you want me. I promise that we’ll continue to have special mama and Javi time, even if it’s less frequent. And I promise that I’ll continue to tell you I love you a thousand times a day, and to give you a thousand kisses a day even if you wipe them away and most of all — that my hand will always be there when you reach out for it.

Love,

Mama