A letter to my son.

Some of my best memories will be moments my children will never remember. I've come to the realization that although the experiences they have now will shape them, their early childhood is mine to cherish, not theirs.

Dear Isaac,

You are about to become a big brother.  And oh what a good one you will be.  You’ll teach your little sister all the important things in life, I have no doubt.  And she’ll be so lucky to have you to protect her always.  We’ve been reading lots of books about being a big brother and about babies and you’ll happily show us where the baby is going to sleep and where the baby’s bottles are and that the baby is in Mommy’s tummy (and sometimes you think there must also be a baby in your tummy).  You take your Cabbage Patch doll into the nursery to change her and put her in the bouncy chair, before you color on her face with magic marker or throw her down the stairs of course.  But we’re fairly certain you have no idea what is in store for you!  We are overjoyed that we are about to become a family of four, but there is also some sadness that it will never be just the three of us again.  YOU made us parents and that makes YOU very special.

I know our lives are about to get even crazier than they already are and when we’ve caught our breath (probably not for a few years!) and we’re looking back at this time in our family it will seem like a blur, so I wanted to be sure to get some of our favorite things about you at this age down on paper to spark our memories.  You are so independent – you have your own thoughts about everything and your own way of doing everything.  You are not to be rushed.  If we try to hurry you along you find even more ways to hold us up, on purpose.  You thrive on routine – you’re happy to change up that routine on us every now and again and expect us to roll with it as if it’s always been that way.  You never stop.  Ever.  You are on the go from the moment you wake to the moment you say “nigh nigh” to us.  It’s no wonder you sleep like a champion, you are exhausting!  There is only one thing that will stop you dead in your tracks, and that’s a hangnail, you can’t stand them!  You love puzzles, trains, trucks, cars, dinosaurs, tools and baseball.  You love to pretend to do things that Mommy and Daddy do – like cook dinner at your kitchen set and shave with your pretend razor at the sink with Daddy.  Heck, you even love to pretend to do the things that Molly does, making us throw something for you to fetch in your mouth or eating your cereal with no spoon just like the dog.  You are going through what we are calling your “boo-boo phase”.  At any given time you have at the very least 2 Band-Aids on your body somewhere.  With no real boo-boos underneath.  You make up some sort of boo-boo just to have a Band-Aid – like they are medals of honor.  You feel very hurt and offended when you get yelled at and you want to cuddle in our laps and hug us afterwards to be sure we aren’t permanently mad at you.  I love when your gentle spirit shines through all that rough exterior of yours.  You make us laugh, oh how we laugh.  And you are full or surprises.  Just last night you counted to 16 like you've always done it, and we've never heard you go past 5 before.  Our pride in those moments makes me wonder what it will feel like when you do something really important, like graduate!  We love you to the moon and back little man.

Mommy and Daddy