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a letter to my firstborn: on your birthday

these looked so much better in my mind.
dear peanut,

it's 21 minutes into your third birthday, and i'm awake. i just finished making cupcakes for your class tomorrow. they're not as beautiful as i thought they might be but know i iced them all with extra love to make up for their imperfections.

three years ago right now i wasn't sleeping either. i was up walking around the house, and i couldn't get comfortable. i had a feeling -- and i would prove to be right -- that you were letting me know that you were ready. you were ready to come into your daddy and my life: to change everything we knew, including ourselves and each other.

as i was icing those cupcakes tonight, your baby brother was kicking around inside my belly. and i remember when you were kicking around in there, and we were just waiting to meet you. we loved you already, you see, but we had to meet you to understand how very much. now i can't wait for you to meet your baby brother with us, so we can all love him and love each other even more. you're going to be a great brother.

twelve hours after i paced the living room, it was finally time to head to the hospital. and just three hours later there you were, in our arms, so little and amazing and beautiful and awesome.

three years later, you are only more awesome possum.

your daddy and i, we are so very proud of you, our little man. you are sweet, and determined, and smart, and creative, and fun, and inquisitive. you have excellent manners and are learning all about how to behave respectfully. you work so hard to be a good boy, even when it is tough. you are growing and learning so much every day.

and when you laugh, that is the most wonderful sound your daddy and i have ever heard. you have an excellent laugh and i hope you will always use it, loudly and often, and share your joy with the people around you.

tonight, it's time for your mama to go to sleep, john. but first, i might just crawl into your big boy bed for a moment, and feel your warm snuggly sleepy self next to me. i want to be the very first to wish my baby john a happy birthday.

sleep tight, my baby. i can't wait to celebrate with you tomorrow.

love forever,
your mommy

ps. here's an important lesson for you: sometimes mommies cry when they are happy. so if you see a tear or two in my eyes tomorrow, don't worry about me, just keep on laughing.


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