To My 2 Year Old Before I Become a Mother of Two:

Photo by: Cassie Schott Photography

Nolan,

As we prepare to welcome another baby into the world tomorrow, I want you to know that your brother’s presence will change the dynamic of our family, but it won’t change how much I have loved you or will love you in the future.

Although I won’t have the same attention span or time to dedicate solely to your wants and needs, being your mother will still be my favorite and most important role.

Please know the collection of memories I’ve formed with and about you won’t be replaced as we experience your brother’s milestones; Both will be tremendously special in their own way. I will remember your “firsts” and the joy I felt each time you accomplished a new task. 

You were the one who made me a mother and I’m so grateful for the lessons I’ve learned being your parent. I’m hopeful that because of my experiences with you, I am able to provide our growing family with even more warmth, love, and stability than before and become a better mother to you and your brother.

You’ve taught me more about love, pride, and patience in two years than I learned over 32 trips around the sun. 

I will always remember the moment we officially met moments after you were born. The doctor held you up, your arms stretched side to side, and your eyes wide open. You were alert and observant from day one and although you were crying, the whimpering stopped the second they placed you on my chest. 

As a first time mom, this moment taught me about the simple power of touch and the importance of skin to skin contact. I learned that sometimes a hug would be able to solve your problem.

The doctors and nurses fawned over you immediately, “Where’s our little blondie?” they would ask as they came into the room. You were unique and special, and have been so loved by everyone who’s met you since day one.

My heart melted the first time you smiled at me, as you laid in your bassinet wearing a dinosaur onesie. You looked up at me while I did my hair and makeup and stuck out your little tongue as your eyes crinkled and your lips formed a sly grin. You were 4 weeks old. 

This moment reassured me that you felt loved, were content, and recognized me. That smile is forever etched in my memory and taught me the importance of communication. As a parent, my nonverbal cues and body language are just as important, if not more than spoken words. 

From that day forward, I made it a goal to communicate as clearly as possible with you - maintaining eye contact, using a gentle tone, and narrating my actions so you could understand what and why I was doing something.

I remember the first time you got sick. Your first fever was around 4 months after starting daycare. Panic washed over me as I frantically pulled off your hat and unbuttoned your clothes to lower your 103 temperature while shakily calling the pediatrician. I remember staying up all night that evening watching you sleep, wishing I could be sick instead of you.

This moment taught me that unfortunately you will feel pain and as much as I can try to make you comfortable or try to solve the problem myself, there will be events in your life you yourself have to physically overcome for your own good. 

These moments of illness - and lets be honest - there were lots these last two years - reminded me that the dark periods “shall pass” and it’s ok to ask for help.

I remember very shortly after you turned 6 months old, learning that you mastered climbing stairs, crawling through a tunnel, and sliding down a slide in one day at daycare - an obstacle course most infants took days, weeks, or even months to accomplish. Your teacher reiterated that you loved to watch the older kids and tried to keep up with them. 

This moment reminded me of your independence and fearlessness - traits of a natural born leader I hoped would continue to flourish with you as you aged. Not even a year old yet and I began envisioning the type of teenager and adult you would become and what type of profession you would seek. 

It also reminded me of the baby proofing we hadn’t completed yet at the house and that we needed to implement boundaries to keep you safe, while still allowing you opportunities to experiment, fail, and ultimately learn from mistakes in order to grow.

I remember the first time you said “mama” (finally) at 10 months old, while we waited for a doctor to give you a popsicle and nausea medicine at the ER. You had been saying “Dada” for months and signing lots of other words, but saved this special word for a day where I knew you trusted me to keep you healthy and safe. 

This moment taught me that some popsicles retail at over $250 and that mistakes will happen being a first-time parent. Thank God for health insurance, nurses, and doctors though.

I remember the first time you walked, taking steps down the hall on Thanksgiving at 11 months old before we left for Michigan. 

This moment made me realize how strong and big you were getting and how fast time was going. The growth, knowledge, and memories you already accrued in less than a year was compounding month over month.

And to be honest, after that first birthday it’s been a blur as your development and the accomplishments you have been achieving seem to have skyrocketed. 

As of your second birthday, you know all your colors (in English and Spanish), can count to 20 in English, 10 in Spanish, sing full songs like Old Macdonald, Bingo, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, and Rock a Bye Baby.

You’re fascinated with Christmas and Cousin Eddie, our Elf on the Shelf who brings you a piece of chocolate and a holiday themed book every night after dinner. 

You love to read and remember specific sentences from many books, joyfully calling out what’s about to happen next as we read to you before bed. 

You’re smart, outgoing, and helpful. You’re super independent and your current favorite phrase is, “No. My do it.”

I am so proud of the little boy you are becoming and can’t wait to see you embrace your new role of big brother.

I love you Nolie Bear.