Letter to my Brady

Dear Brady,

Today you are 4 years old. It's so hard to believe that you're such a big boy now, because when I think about you, I think about your little squishy baby self, the one who wanted to sleep only on Mommy or Daddy, who never wanted to be more than an arm's length from those you knew and loved, who squealed with delight whenever Belle came in the room, who fought sleep with a passion I never knew existed, who never ate well and caused me much concern (until you turned 1, and I realized you could eat when/what you wanted), whose laughter and smiles melted my heart and made me burst with joy. You could roll a ball at 5 months-- as soon as you could sit up, you were coordinated.

As a toddler, you were everywhere at once. YOU WOULD NOT SIT STILL. You still don't stay in one place for very long. You wore us out even as our love for you grew greater and greater every day.

This last year was a pretty tough one. I was in the hospital for 3 months, missing your birthday. Then I came home, but so did 2 little sisters to take all of Mommy's time and energy. We were shorter with you than we should have been, and I'm not proud about the amount of yelling that went on in this house. But we never stopped loving you or needing you. Truth be told, I missed you. I wanted to be your everything, like I had been the first 3 years of your life. I wanted to stop feeding your sister for the 1,000th time that day and play cars with you. I wanted to pick you up and cuddle, just for no reason at all, like we used to. I missed your weight, the way you'd curl up on me, the way I'd get to play with your hair when you lay down on me. We're kinda getting back to that now.

Now you're 4, and you make us laugh more than you make us yell. I think we have this parenting 3 kids under control now, and we're more fun to be around, making you more fun to be around. You're hysterical. You come up with the funniest, most adorable stuff. And you really could NOT be cuter. That hair, those eyes, those eyelashes-- you're going to be trouble. (Although Daddy says that if you're anything like him, it won't be a problem.) You're SMART. You're thoughtful, you're friendly, and you're concerned about others. You're a wonderful big brother. We could not be luckier that you're our son.

Although you're stubborn like me, you're shy, and you don't appear to be a "joiner." You're like Daddy, and I love your Daddy. But it's hard for me sometimes to remember that people don't always like to go whole-hog/headfirst into a situation, but rather observe and form a plan. I recently read a blog post about how children whose personalities aren't like their parents' are a challenge, and parents have to decide how to accept that challenge. Will they shrink away and just let it be, or will they realize that this is an opportunity to grow? I'd like to think that I'm choosing to grow, to become a better Mommy for you, to create the kind of lasting relationship that encourages you to call me occasionally when you're in college, when you're out in the world, when you've partnered up with a lasting soulmate. I want to you to grow to be patient and kind and to continue to be thoughtful and concerned about others. I want you to be a wonderful man like your father, and maybe one day you'll be a great daddy too.

I hope you know that the rough stuff we face, like this past year, are just tiny bumps in the road, and that we respect you. Whoever you become, and however you get there, I will always, always, ALWAYS love you and be there for you.
Happy 4th birthday, my sweet sweet firstborn.

Love,
Mommy