To Nora, Big Sister

Hello, little one.
You seem so big now in comparison to your brother, whose littleness takes up so much of my days - and nights.  This year, we have lived a lifetime worth of experiences together: selling a house, moving to a new house, having a new baby who was very sick and needed even more care and time than a regular newborn, and starting school. These are all very grown up things for such a little lady, but let me tell you, girl: you have handled it with as much grace as any three year old could.

Sometimes, now, when I'm spending so much of my time feeding Joseph, changing him, getting him to sleep, and talking to him, I forget how much you still need me, too.  I get frustrated with you when you want to help - all the time - and I know every time you get close to your brother, my first instinct is to to say "wait! be gentle! wash your hands! not so close!"

You adore him. He adores you.

Tonight we were reading stories. Joseph was already asleep, and one of the books you chose was about a little boy who wishes the snowman he built was made of magic snow so he could take it with him on his adventures all year long.  On one page, they go trick or treating. You are spending a lot of time these days trying to decide what to be for Halloween, and you change your mind at least daily, so we were checking out the costumes in the picture to see if there were any good ideas. One boy was dressed as Superman, but with a dog mask.  I said "Superman with a dog face? That's weird." And you started to giggle. And I giggled. And you belly laughed, and I did, too. It felt like a very long time since we had had a moment like that together.

Slowly but surely (too quickly, really), Joseph is getting bigger and I am getting to spend little moments with you where I can really focus on you.  A few days ago we left him inside with Mimi and went outside to play soccer.  We set up a goal using two flipped-over sand buckets. Then you wanted to swing, so we did that, too.

I don't have the heart to tell you that you make your capital As upside down.  I know you'll learn it at preschool, and even though I don't want you to go to college making upside down As, I'm going to be really sad when you come home and write your name with a right-side-up A.  You only go two half days a week, and you've already learned so much. Sometimes you'll come home singing entire songs that I've never heard before. You can never remember the names of your friends, though, so I'm anxious to go on a field trip with your class so I can spy on everyone.

You think preschool is the best thing since sliced bread. (Actually, you think it's better than sliced bread, as you prefer unsliced bread that you can slice yourself.)  You were pretty nervous about the whole thing.  I can't say that I blame you; Daddy and I were pretty unreliable for you for about three weeks while Joseph was in the hospital and we relied on your grandparents, especially Mimi, to do the bulk of caring for you, and so you just weren't ready to do anything else that required you to be away from us.  But you rocked it, just like I knew you would.  We bought school shoes (you chose blue Nikes because they looked like Daddy's and they made you run faster, you said), and you picked out your favorite blue dress for your first day.  We both took you, and you walked right in and found your name on the circle carpet (and I know that you're the smartest kid in the class, 'cause you could find your own name, you little genius, you) and sat down.  I kissed your head and said "we love you! See you in a couple of hours!" You didn't cry, but I did a little bit on the way home. I told Daddy that it shouldn't be allowed to make a woman drop off her firstborn at preschool while the postpartum hormones are still raging within her.  When I picked up you, you ran right up to me and said, "I did so good!  And I loved it!"  You haven't looked back since.

I know I spend a lot of time with Joseph that I used to spend with you. but I'm not sorry that you now have a brother. So even now when you each need such vastly different things - you want to be on the go all the time; Joseph wants to be quietly talked to and snuggled and take naps - I can see your bond starting to form.  Daddy and I are just standing on the sidelines and watch it all unfold, feeling privileged and grateful to be in the front row of the audience of your childhood.

We love you. :)
Mommy