The things I see

Dear Bun,

A few days ago, I asked your sister what she wanted to be when she grows up. Without missing a beat, she replied, “A big sister!”

Get ready, little man. This girl is ready to shower you with sibling love until you are swimming in a puddle of hugs and kisses.

We’re busy these days, preparing for your arrival. Your room is coming together. And though I often have to reclaim your toys from your sister and chase the cats from your crib, have no fear. These things will be yours and all yours once you are out here in the world. I’ll see to that.

I’m dreaming about the boy you’ll be. And you are fueling my dreams with your nearly constant bouncing, jumping, kicking, and stretching. You have boatloads of energy in there and I look forward to watching us all trying to keep up with you. You’ll keep us running, that’s for sure, and I can’t wait for your energy to sweep our whole family up in your whirlwinds.

As I move throughout my day, I have started to carve our your place in it. I think about where you’ll be when I wake up, what you’ll be doing as I dress your sister for her day. I plot out where you’ll lay, and then sit, and then stand, as we prepare dinner or bake up a dessert in the kitchen. When we go to the park, I’ve already got you snuggled up against me in a baby carrier, sleeping to the beat of my heart, the rhythm of my walk, and the rustle of wind through the trees as your sister glides through the air on the swings.

When I look out the window, I see us stretched out across a blanket. Reading and resting. I see the footprints of your first tentative steps through the grass, circling the tree in our backyard. I see cars and trucks rolling across the playroom floor and dinosaurs peeking up between couch cushions.

Of course, I also see your sister sliding a tutu over your chubby, baby legs while I’m not looking and before you have the words to protest. Don’t worry, my boy. If tutus aren’t your thing, we’ll clear that up with her. (Though, I can’t promise that I won’t take a picture.)

I see our family, growing and becoming whole. Learning each day what it means to be a family of four; two parents, two children. Eating dinner together, running errands together, seeing the world together.

We do it all together here, sweet Bun. I can’t wait for you to join us.

Love,

Mommy