Posted by Duff

It feels strange to address them as My Children, since one of them has an unknown birthday as of yet, and because I’m quite superstitious. But. I don’t think of myself as the mother of one anymore. There is another face. Feet, revealed in ultrasound, to be like mine. And a countdown ticking down for us both.

Dear Dervish:

These last four months that the three of us, as a family,  have together are so precious to your father and I. We want you to know we see you (and respect you) for who you are, even if we don’t always understand you. You are teaching us how to be a parent to you, not just to a child, or children in general.

Thank you for the recent onset of please and thank you in context, for sharing, and for your concern for others’ well-being. These manners that we’ve been harping on will get you far. You won’t believe me – maybe until you have children of your own, but we would never steer you wrong.

While you may not want to hear you’re like your mom, I want you to know I understand the frustration that comes with expecting to know how to do something before you learn how to do it.  Like your eyes, this has been passed down, mother to daughter, through at least four generations.  Please, give yourself a break.

You have a lovely, fiery spirit, and you impress us.  And please stop chasing the cats. 

Dear MC:

You are someone I cannot yet imagine beyond the abstract, already unique and perfect in your own right.  Please be patient with us while we get to know you and how you work.  We have the best intentions.

Your father and I both know what it feels like to be the second (and youngest) child, and will try to keep that in mind. You are not being left behind, and if we react to you differently, it’s because we know you are different from your sister, your own.

I also want you to know how much I have been enjoying these weeks, just you and me, sharing pumpkin treats and cranberry juice, and reading To Kill A Mockingbird, for the first time, together. I know I will have to share you soon, but for now, it’s just us.

Thank you for letting me eat chocolate again. I can’t wait to meet you.