Dear Babygirlsssss

June 12, 2014

Dear girlies,

Girls. Girls. Plural! That still boggles my mind.


There are two of you. Big sister and Little sister. How did I ever get so lucky? And whose adorable kids are these because surely they can’t be mine…right?

Right? Hello?

Wait, what? I gave birth to both of you? NO WAY.

I’m sure every parent, especially the newer parents of younger children, looks at their kids from time to time and think, “I can’t believe that child is mine!” It’s such a surreal experience.

All our lives we dreamt of having children; what it would feel like to find out we’re pregnant, what it would be like to carry, deliver, and nurture a baby, how fun it would be to wrap toys from Santa for Christmas and teach you how to ride a bike and sit for hours on the end of the bleachers cheering you on with the rest of the team. We dreamt what it would be like to watch you walk across the stage and accept your diploma, help you rent the U-haul for your first apartment, and dance with you at your wedding.

And then, seemingly overnight, especially in hindsight, you are there. Here. And we’re living in it.

I heard someone the other day refer to their life with tiny children as “life in the trenches.” It’s a crazy time. Tiny babies, tiny kids, and all of the messiness and beautiful chaos that having young children implies.

Sometimes, when standing deep within the trench, covered in mud and cowering from incoming bombshells, I forget that you weren’t always mine. I forget about those dreams we used to have of a house full of little feet and lots of giggles. I am now in that house. And there are little feet and lots of giggles, but they are interspersed with the tantrums and the food battles and the epic messes and the sore back and the snotty noses.

But then there are moments of clarity. Moments where, for whatever reason, life slows for a second and I’m handed that one thing that so many people wish they had: perspective.

I take a breath for a second and rise up into the air, looking at both of you, looking at all of us, from above, and I gasp. You are mine. You are both mine. You are ours! How is that possible? Is it really true?

Surely you’re just someone else’s kids that I’m just getting to borrow for a while…right?

I mean, I know I carried you and birthed you and snuggled you, but…did I really? The trenches sometimes blur the memories, but that makes the fact that those dreams are now a reality even better. It’s dreamlike, having you two as my children.

You are mine! I can’t believe it. The dreams came true. Those dreams are now our life. And it ROCKS.

(Except for the poop part. That part does not rock. My god, the poop involved in parenting young children.)

You are mine! I can’t believe it. The dreams came true…except they didn’t. Because you are better. Both of you. Our girls.

I could never have dreamed.

All my love,

For more in the Dear Babygirl series: Letters to my Daughter


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