I want to apologize.
I swore I wouldn’t fall into “second child-itis” with you and I have fallen. Hard. There are so many ways I feel like I am “failing” you.
With Eddie, I scrap booked the day lights out of his first year. I kept track and wrote down everything. I recorded first words and monthly milestones and growth patterns. I printed pictures each month and clipped them together to make sure I would include them in his book. I wrote letters to him on the 23rd of each month with all my notes on hand to reference and put into words.
I have not been this vigilant with your milestones.
Daddy tells me that I have been keeping it here on the blog…but when I do a search of all my posts for you, they are mostly letters–heavy on sentiment and feelings and light on the facts of your growth.
Part of me is sad about this.
I mean, I had been so good about it with Eddie. But with Eddie I was sick. I had trouble being close to him without getting upset. He much preferred to be with Daddy than with me. I clung to those stats. They proved I was doing my job as his mom. He was growing and thriving and he was happy.
I think about writing things down about you a million times a day.
Just yesterday you said, “Ma Ma Ma! Juuuuuuu!!!” as you stood by the refrigerator. I told you to say please and you smiled that HUGE smile of yours with all your teeth and your squinty little eyes and cooed, “eeeeeeessss!”
I melted all over the floor. You’re not even 18 months old yet.
By comparison your brother didn’t say any real words until well after he turned two. And even then he wasn’t stringing 2-3 words together for a thought or request. He didn’t say “ma ma” until he was a full year older than you are.
It’s not a bad thing. You know Eddie, he says all the things now and he is so smart and articulate. It’s hard to really imagine him not having words. I wrote down little notes each time he said a new word.
I have not written down any of your words, Birdie. They just come too fast! I think maybe the first word was “no”, but I could be wrong. Off the top of my head the words you have are:
- ma ma
- di di (Eddie) –which you don’t say very often. You just know who “Eddie” or “brother” is.
- yo (and also yo, yo! when Daddy comes home. So silly!)
- Juuuuu! (juice, water)
- mik (milk)
- num num (for food)
- ni ni (for goodnight)
- bye bye
- aw gu (all gone)
- shoooooos (shoes)
- bop (pipe, your pacifier)
- boom (you repeat this after us, but you also use this for the word “poop”)
- Di (diaper)
- eeeeeeeesss! (please)
- nus (nose)
- tus (toes)
And I am sure there are more. You study what we say and try to repeat it. It’s so fun that even Eddie tries to teach you words.
You are quite good at knowing all the parts of the face including some body parts like fingers, toes, feet, buns, tummy, and of course penis. Because boys are weird.
You are over 25 pounds and wearing size 5 diapers.
Size 18 months is a hit or miss fit for you. Most shirts don’t quite cover your big buddah belly, but the shorts are the right length.
You want to do everything Eddie does. EVERYTHING. If he is playing on a tablet or a computer or a video game, you think you can do it too.
You are a climber. I’m positive some of my new gray hairs are because you can climb on anything you decide to climb. It’s also freaking Renae out at daycare this fall. She tells us with panic what the newest thing you have climbed is. Daddy and I just nod knowingly. Yup. That’s Bird.
This summer you crawled up three concrete steps at the cottage and proceeded to fall down them and land on the concrete slab…on your head. You didn’t cry. You just stood up, rubbed your head (where there was a big scratch and a goose egg) and say, “woe.” Then you walked away.
Your uncles are still talking about how you are indestructible.
I knew you would be fine and I didn’t rush to you. With Eddie, I would have cried and rocked you and fretted over a concussion.
With you, I gave you a pat on the buns and told you, “good hustle, Bird.”
Am I failing you?
I don’t think we are, but sometimes I question whether we are being fair.
You put yourself to sleep every nap and every night. Sometimes you cry. We let you.
We never let Eddie cry. Never. We spent HOURS rocking him and sleeping on the couch with him. Never did he cry himself to sleepy.
You normally just fall asleep, but when you don’t, we let you cry. It only lasts 15 minutes at the most. Then you are out.
Is this wrong?
Is it because you are the second child?
I think so. In part.
But I also think it’s because you’re not Eddie.
You are a different child.
Yes, you are our second boy. Yes, you are another Sluiter. Yes, you both have blue eyes, blond hair with curls, and a wicked cute smile and dimple.
But you are not the same child, so we are not parenting you as the same child.
You are fiercely naughty in a way Eddie never was. You ignore the word “no” unless you are using it against us. You laugh as you do something you know you’re not supposed to. Did I mention you climb all the things? Even our high top dinner table? You are rarely unhappy unless you are hungry or tired. Then your tantrums are fierce…FIERCE, I say. But quick. As soon as you have a snack or a nap you are back to silly Bird.
And your cuddles. Oh you’re my cuddly momma’s boy. So different than the first time around with Eddie who was incredibly attached to Daddy.
I’ve been a bum about writing things down, yes. I’ll try to get better. I want you to have as rich of a pile of my memories as Eddie does. I want you to know about yourself in a time that you will not remember. I want you to have that.
You are my second child, but you are not second place. You are not less than First.
You are different.
You are my Charlie T Bird.
And I love you with all of my heart and soul.
Love, Ma Ma