Dear Baby Boy,
I know being a second child it must seem like all you ever get is hand-me-downs and play dates geared around your big brother.
That nothing at all is yours.
The clothes you wear have all been worn before, and show it. The bed you sleep in was your big brothers. The toys you chew have been chewed before.
That sometimes Mummy can’t drop everything to run to you when you cry (especially when everything involves your big brother and potty training). That cuddles are shared, and are often a little bit too enthusiastic.
That you just have to slot in and around everything. There’s no I can’t leave the house because the baby needs to nap like there was with your big brother, you just have to sleep on the go.
You my gorgeous little man, you take it all in your stride with big beaming smiles for everyone, especially your big brother.
Although, at times, I feel guilty that you don’t have anything new. Anything to say this is just mine. I often remind myself what you do have that your brother didn’t.
You have a Mummy who is now so secure and confident in her parenting abilities and decisions that (generally) nothing phases me. You want to crawl under the table and I’ve not got round to sweeping the floor yet? No problem, it’s only fluff.
You have a Mummy who isn’t stressed out that you aren’t following the textbook routine that the books say you should. That’s fine you’ll do things your own way, read the baby not the book. Lessons I learned the hard way with your big brother. That always sometimes babies don’t do what the the book says. But that doesn’t matter. I’ve read you from day one little man.
You have a Mummy who doesn’t dress you up. No buttons or zips. Vests are my outfit of choice, comfy for you, easy for me put on. You, my last baby, will not wear the little outfits that your brother did. No matter how cute or adorable they are, I’m keeping you my baby for as long as you will let me.
You have a Mummy who is much more relaxed. One who doesn’t jump and run for the thermometer, or worse, Dr Google. A mummy who trusts her instincts to know if you’re unwell. Who doesn’t have an internal debate over giving calpol or not. If I think you need it you get it. If I think you need to ride it out you don’t. I couldn’t tell you how many temperatures you’ve had or what an average temperature for you is. I’ve not needed to.
You have a Mummy who is willing to go with the flow. You’re asleep and we’re meant to be at a coffee morning? No sweat maybe next week. You’re awake when you’re meant to be asleep? How about a walk outside to help you nod off. You don’t feel like eating today? That’s OK sometimes I don’t either.
You have a Mummy who is a dab hand at quick nappy changes. An expert at blowing raspberries. Who will let you explore and get messy. Who will sneak you chocolate. Who has let you watch the telly. Who has already broken every rule she ever set herself and lived to tell the Mummy tale.
You have a Mummy who has provided you with the best toy ever in your big brother. Someone to emulate, to look up to, to chase around. No one can make you laugh like he can.
You have a Mummy who loves you very, very much. First child, second child, it doesn’t matter.
I love you to the moon… And back
I always will.
Love Mummy x x x
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