When my girls were babies and soft and snugly and smelled good all the time, I never would have needed to remind me to give them Kisses.
But what started to scare me, that’s right, scare me, was that as I watched my older daughter growing up, becoming more independent, I noticed a shift in myself that was so slight it was almost unrecognizable…until it was.
I realized that as I was cuddling her younger sister and giving kisses at every turn, there seemed to be an invisible barrier between Trisha and me.
There is something about being able to hold your child, to carry them, that seems to create and foster a closeness. That proximity to my face seemed to create the perfect environment for a kiss on the mouth, a snuggle, an extra hug. This made realize that the sibling getting the short end of the stick is my daughter, my sassy first-born.
I would grab her and hug her and kiss her as she wandered off into dreamland. But I was angry with myself…angry at letting her fledgling independence create this barrier…and angry because I knew it was more me that had let that happen than her. Because she was only 5 and she’s still a little girl. And she still needs her mom more than anyone and needs to know that I love her and get those kisses throughout the day.
And last night when she came crying in my room, "mamma I am not getting sleep", after a very long time (we stop co-sleeping after soumya's birth) I went to put her to sleep. And I was finding myself laying in bed at night next to Trisha asking myself…Have I even kissed her today? I hugged her I know, yes I’m certain I at least hugged her. But did I wrap my arms around her and give her a kiss and tell her how much I love her today just for being her?
So I told myself I wasn’t going to let this happen. Because if anyone could change it, I could. And I was going to start right away. So here’s a quick letter of apology I drafted to her in my rare down time while she was at school
My Dahling Trisha,
I’m sorry because you will always get the worst version of me as a mom. I say that only half jokingly. For the first almost 3 years of your life, had someone asked me if I was the best mom in the world, I would have answered unequivocally and quite unabashedly that yes, yes of course I was.
I mean, what about all those clothes washed and folded so neatly? And then when you came, I nursed you on demand, I let you sleep when you needed to, I only let people hold you after they had used hand sanitizer. And I held you non-stop, barely giving anyone else a chance to do so
You were my world, wholly and completely. After your beautiful entry into this world, I had finally realized what love was.
And so, yes, there you have it, I WAS the best mom in the world.
Then…near your 3rd birthday, your baby sister joined our little family.
And from that day on, I can see that being born first is not really a blessing, my dear.
You have been a big sister for 5 years now and overall you have done a great job, especially since I have changed as a mom to you in so many ways. I am not as physically, emotionally, and mentally available to you as much as before since I have a baby dependent on me for love and nourishment 24/7. You have been very understanding despite this. I think it is because you have always been an independent child.
I hate to break it to you, but for every ounce of crazy you got from me, your sister has gotten a much calmer version of me. Whereas every move you made had me freaked out, I know I have a tendency to refer to your sister as the “calm one” and you, the “lively one.” In fact, I realize that I compare the two of you quite frequently, but it’s because I can’t get over how extremely different you are. You both amaze me.
With your sister I realized babies do some weird things and most of them don’t require a visit to the paediatrician. Surprisingly, she has survived many nights without me watching her breathe or holding my hand on her chest and taking her pulse. Go figure…Cold and congested chest had become your 2nd family. A slight change in weather and you have it. When you quit being an only child, I said goodbye to any idea of us all being healthy at the same time! Germs are like a family member these days.
If that was not enough a fussy child in eating that you were, put my patient to its test limit. The variations that I cooked so that something goes in your lil tummy not even half I had to do for Soumya. The moment she became of age to eat solid she started eating with all the ease. As if she had learned how to do so from my womb.
Aah! and how can I forget sleep, hyperactive that you were and are, sleep never touches your eye. Busy in your world, racing through your imagination, sleep is mere waste of time. But with your sister lights out - time to sleep. I’m sorry I focused so much on your stupid sleep schedule. Some of my worst moments as a mother were trying to get you to take a nap that first (and second… and third year). I yelled. I cursed. I cried. Or I left you crying. It seemed so important at the time. You NEEDED sleep. What you didn’t need was a crazed lady yelling at you to sleep. I’m really, really sorry about that.
Soumya has gone potty in almost every imaginable public restroom and, good news for me, learned to go #2 on a real potty way before you ever did. Goodbye scraping poop out from randomly every place.
With you, I lost my temper more easily and got easily frustrated when you wouldn’t listen. I mean, shouldn’t a 2 year old listen the first time, get dressed quickly and buckle in their car seat?
I’m sorry for all the overzealous discipline. We spanked. We yelled. We doled out way more than our fair share of time outs. Daddy and I were rookies. That’s the truth. We hadn’t yet learned the subtle art of choosing our battles and adjusting our expectations. You took the brunt of that and I’m so sorry.
But it was really rough the first time around. However, you changed my life for the better and I have learned so much from you after all the years that I can actually relax a little and enjoy being your mom.
But, you see, this apology letter is not really even for these first 5 years of your life. I mean, it sort of is, but we all know that most of these “mistakes” I made won’t be remembered by you.
What I’m trying to tell you is this…you are ALWAYS going to be my “first.”
You gave me the greatest gift possible. You made me a mom. In the most intense way possible, YOU are my baby.
You will be the first one to go through those angsty tween years where you aren’t a little girl and you certainly aren’t ready to not be one.
You will be the first one to test the limits of my patience day in and day out.
You will be my guinea pig for rewards and punishments.
You’ll be the one we figure out how to manage homework with.
Training bras, mean girls, curfews, boys….you will be the first to go through each of these phases. So as with anything in life, there will be a learning curve.
I will learn how to do it better, but you won’t usually be the one to reap that reward. As the oldest, you have the unsavoury role of paving the way through all the phases, and your sister is going to reap the benefits. It’s a crummy trade-off: She’ll watch you get to do everything “cool” first, like driving or owning a phone, and you’ll watch her get the softer side of mom and dad.
But here’s what I can also tell you.
I won’t always get it right with you. In fact, more often than not, I will probably get it wrong the first time.
But please, even when you are mad at me, angry at what I wouldn’t let you do, annoyed with what I made you do…please know that in everything I do, in every choice I make, I am always, always, trying to get back to that place where I believe I am the best mom in the world. You are the reason I continue to learn, and you are my motivation for always wanting to be better.
And it’s no longer me trying to prove it to the world, but to myself.
Love,
Your Mom
Source : Hillary Cole
But what started to scare me, that’s right, scare me, was that as I watched my older daughter growing up, becoming more independent, I noticed a shift in myself that was so slight it was almost unrecognizable…until it was.
I realized that as I was cuddling her younger sister and giving kisses at every turn, there seemed to be an invisible barrier between Trisha and me.
There is something about being able to hold your child, to carry them, that seems to create and foster a closeness. That proximity to my face seemed to create the perfect environment for a kiss on the mouth, a snuggle, an extra hug. This made realize that the sibling getting the short end of the stick is my daughter, my sassy first-born.
I would grab her and hug her and kiss her as she wandered off into dreamland. But I was angry with myself…angry at letting her fledgling independence create this barrier…and angry because I knew it was more me that had let that happen than her. Because she was only 5 and she’s still a little girl. And she still needs her mom more than anyone and needs to know that I love her and get those kisses throughout the day.
And last night when she came crying in my room, "mamma I am not getting sleep", after a very long time (we stop co-sleeping after soumya's birth) I went to put her to sleep. And I was finding myself laying in bed at night next to Trisha asking myself…Have I even kissed her today? I hugged her I know, yes I’m certain I at least hugged her. But did I wrap my arms around her and give her a kiss and tell her how much I love her today just for being her?
So I told myself I wasn’t going to let this happen. Because if anyone could change it, I could. And I was going to start right away. So here’s a quick letter of apology I drafted to her in my rare down time while she was at school
My Dahling Trisha,
I’m sorry because you will always get the worst version of me as a mom. I say that only half jokingly. For the first almost 3 years of your life, had someone asked me if I was the best mom in the world, I would have answered unequivocally and quite unabashedly that yes, yes of course I was.
I mean, what about all those clothes washed and folded so neatly? And then when you came, I nursed you on demand, I let you sleep when you needed to, I only let people hold you after they had used hand sanitizer. And I held you non-stop, barely giving anyone else a chance to do so
You were my world, wholly and completely. After your beautiful entry into this world, I had finally realized what love was.
And so, yes, there you have it, I WAS the best mom in the world.
Then…near your 3rd birthday, your baby sister joined our little family.
And from that day on, I can see that being born first is not really a blessing, my dear.
You have been a big sister for 5 years now and overall you have done a great job, especially since I have changed as a mom to you in so many ways. I am not as physically, emotionally, and mentally available to you as much as before since I have a baby dependent on me for love and nourishment 24/7. You have been very understanding despite this. I think it is because you have always been an independent child.
I hate to break it to you, but for every ounce of crazy you got from me, your sister has gotten a much calmer version of me. Whereas every move you made had me freaked out, I know I have a tendency to refer to your sister as the “calm one” and you, the “lively one.” In fact, I realize that I compare the two of you quite frequently, but it’s because I can’t get over how extremely different you are. You both amaze me.
With your sister I realized babies do some weird things and most of them don’t require a visit to the paediatrician. Surprisingly, she has survived many nights without me watching her breathe or holding my hand on her chest and taking her pulse. Go figure…Cold and congested chest had become your 2nd family. A slight change in weather and you have it. When you quit being an only child, I said goodbye to any idea of us all being healthy at the same time! Germs are like a family member these days.
If that was not enough a fussy child in eating that you were, put my patient to its test limit. The variations that I cooked so that something goes in your lil tummy not even half I had to do for Soumya. The moment she became of age to eat solid she started eating with all the ease. As if she had learned how to do so from my womb.
Aah! and how can I forget sleep, hyperactive that you were and are, sleep never touches your eye. Busy in your world, racing through your imagination, sleep is mere waste of time. But with your sister lights out - time to sleep. I’m sorry I focused so much on your stupid sleep schedule. Some of my worst moments as a mother were trying to get you to take a nap that first (and second… and third year). I yelled. I cursed. I cried. Or I left you crying. It seemed so important at the time. You NEEDED sleep. What you didn’t need was a crazed lady yelling at you to sleep. I’m really, really sorry about that.
Soumya has gone potty in almost every imaginable public restroom and, good news for me, learned to go #2 on a real potty way before you ever did. Goodbye scraping poop out from randomly every place.
With you, I lost my temper more easily and got easily frustrated when you wouldn’t listen. I mean, shouldn’t a 2 year old listen the first time, get dressed quickly and buckle in their car seat?
I’m sorry for all the overzealous discipline. We spanked. We yelled. We doled out way more than our fair share of time outs. Daddy and I were rookies. That’s the truth. We hadn’t yet learned the subtle art of choosing our battles and adjusting our expectations. You took the brunt of that and I’m so sorry.
But it was really rough the first time around. However, you changed my life for the better and I have learned so much from you after all the years that I can actually relax a little and enjoy being your mom.
But, you see, this apology letter is not really even for these first 5 years of your life. I mean, it sort of is, but we all know that most of these “mistakes” I made won’t be remembered by you.
What I’m trying to tell you is this…you are ALWAYS going to be my “first.”
You gave me the greatest gift possible. You made me a mom. In the most intense way possible, YOU are my baby.
You will be the first one to go through those angsty tween years where you aren’t a little girl and you certainly aren’t ready to not be one.
You will be the first one to test the limits of my patience day in and day out.
You will be my guinea pig for rewards and punishments.
You’ll be the one we figure out how to manage homework with.
Training bras, mean girls, curfews, boys….you will be the first to go through each of these phases. So as with anything in life, there will be a learning curve.
I will learn how to do it better, but you won’t usually be the one to reap that reward. As the oldest, you have the unsavoury role of paving the way through all the phases, and your sister is going to reap the benefits. It’s a crummy trade-off: She’ll watch you get to do everything “cool” first, like driving or owning a phone, and you’ll watch her get the softer side of mom and dad.
But here’s what I can also tell you.
I won’t always get it right with you. In fact, more often than not, I will probably get it wrong the first time.
But please, even when you are mad at me, angry at what I wouldn’t let you do, annoyed with what I made you do…please know that in everything I do, in every choice I make, I am always, always, trying to get back to that place where I believe I am the best mom in the world. You are the reason I continue to learn, and you are my motivation for always wanting to be better.
And it’s no longer me trying to prove it to the world, but to myself.
Love,
Your Mom
Source : Hillary Cole
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