I’m in total shock that this is the last letter I’ll write to you while you’re still an only child. You’re about to experience a paradigm shift of epic proportions, and there’s nothing we can do to prepare you for it.
We’ve read books about being a big sister. We’ve read books about how babies are little, and they can’t do the things that big girls like you can. We hug your baby doll and encourage you to be gentle with it. Overall you’re pretty good with that, but like any toddler, you still spend plenty of time dragging your baby around by her ankles and flinging her out of the doll stroller to make room for crayons and stickers. Priorities.
We talk a lot about the baby sister in Mama’s belly, but at this stage, it’s just not a concept that’s sticking. At all. When we ask if you can say, “baby sister,” you grin and say, “baby ELMO!” You can sort-of say the word “sister,” so my theory is that you realize full well how funny we think this answer is and you’re milking it for all it’s worth.
As a fellow oldest child with a younger sister, I can tell you that there will be moments when you’ll question our judgement in adding to our family. Why on EARTH did they think bringing this annoying little thing into the world, MY world, was a good idea?
The answer, my sweet girl, is simple: you.
You made us parents. You changed our world in life-altering, life-affirming ways. You opened our hearts so wide that we knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that there’s absolutely room for another person (maybe more!) in our family.
What it comes down to is this: you are AWESOME. If you weren’t so awesome, if we didn’t love being your parents so much, we wouldn’t be having another. But you are and we do and ready or not, she’s on her way.
She’ll be awesome too, of course. How could she not? She has the best big sister ever.