Dear Henry,

The day before your birthday this photo came up on my Timehop:

I remember it so well. We were waiting and waiting for your arrival. We didn’t know much about you, we didn’t even know if you were a boy or a girl. We just knew that we couldn’t wait for you to join our family. Your sister sat with me and we rolled Thomas the Tank Engine and Rosie over my belly. The caption I put on the photo was “Trying to lure this kid out with the promise of toys.” I laugh now on your second birthday. (Well, Friday November, 6 was your second birthday.) I laugh because it was like I was predicting our future with the turn of those little wheels across my body.

So much of what you love has wheels. “Cars!” “Choo choos!” are your favorite phrases and your favorite toys. “Wwweeeew!” is what you mean for planes. You love them too, and the “Planes” movie that I may have completely memorized soon. The look of concentration you get when you push trains across your new train tracks is awesome. You ride your push toys with gusto and try so hard to reach the pedals on your new trike. Then you sneak over to your sister’s big bike because you have big dreams for a little guy. Daddy and I always wonder if wheels will be a way of life for you.

You wouldn’t put down the new car you got for your birthday during Stroller Strides. Also, you don’t want to wear any other shoes but the light-up Thomas shoes.

Wheels aren’t all you love. You love running fast, yelling loud and smiling big. You love when your sister sends you into giggle fits, when you pet Ginger and when Daddy walks in the door after work. Henry, you also love your mama. Son, we love you too. I didn’t know my heart could be so full until you joined our family. Thank you for being you.

Happy Birthday. I love you, my sweet, sweet boy.

Two years later. Thomas and Rosie are well loved. My belly is much smaller and you are so much bigger.

Love,

Mama

Dear Charlotte & Henry,

I didn’t write you individual letters at your half-birthdays back in May like I meant to. I haven’t written much lately, actually. I think it’s because I’ve just been with you and enjoyed you. Especially this summer. Summer 2015 has been so much fun for us and I love that we still have so many weeks left together before the fall.

This weekend a friend took this picture of me.

This isn’t a picture I would normally post. I’m not as posed and camera-ready as you, no doubt, have learned I like to be. It’s a vain flaw I hope to not pass down to you. I want both of you to always know there is no “bad picture” of either of you. You are beautiful at all angles.

I think I like this picture because it reflects how I feel at this point in my life. When the shutter snapped I had just been talking to both of you. Looking at you, and discussing you with my friend. My eyes are a little tired, but happy. That is me. That is your mother at nearly 34 years-old, parenting a 4 1/2-year-old and a 1 1/2-year old. My face shows our life right now. Every day I wake up to wrangle, snuggle, feed, kiss, play with you and carry you.

Charlotte, I can’t tell you how proud Daddy and I are when we see you excited and brave as you jump into the pool. You’ve learned so much at your swimming lessons this summer. Your stories, your games and songs make everyday exciting and fun. You are so smart and capable, now! I’m constantly amazed with the newest thing you’ve learned. You make us laugh all the time. I’m sorry I laugh so loud that you have to cover your ears. I can’t help it! You’re funny! Your hair is so long and beautiful! It falls in ringlets down your back. It’s the hair of dreams. It’s amazing.

Henry, you make us smile with your sweet looks, your crazy run and silly antics. Your personality grows every day. Your love of trains, cars and trucks is intense. You run so fast I can’t catch you some times. Every day you have a new like or dislike. You’re talking so much at 20 months-old! Your favorite things to say are “Mama,” “car,” “choo-choo,” “Daddy,” “Jinjin,” (Ginger) and “Shaya.” (Charlotte) You have your own word for your favorite food, “Ahbees.” Those are berries. You would eat your weight in fruit if I let you, son. We don’t even say “berries” anymore. Only “Ahbees.” You had your first real haircut from a stylist. You look more like a little boy than a baby, but your beautiful curls remain.

The biggest thing I’ve seen this summer is the relationship between the two of you grow. Sigh. There are moments of sibling rivalry. Henry, stop pulling her hair. Charlotte, stop antagonizing and taunting him. But, other times. Maybe when you think Daddy and I aren’t looking, you play together. Charlotte, at a play group the other day you saw another little boy take Henry’s car. You patiently followed him until he set down the truck. You quickly picked it up and gave it back to your brother. You didn’t like another kid having it. Henry, you found your sister’s hair bow on the floor the other day. You went up and pressed it to her head. You know it’s hers.

Mostly, this photo of me shows my hope for all that is to come and my satisfaction and joy with the now. Thank you for letting me be your mother. It is the privilege of my life.

I love you my darling, darling girl and my sweet, sweet boy.

Love,

Mama

Dear Henry,

You’re two weeks into your second year. Happy  (belated) Birthday! Don’t worry, we celebrated right on time. I’m just late writing your letter. I’m not sure why I put it off. At first I was a little sad your first year was over, but in these two weeks I’m remembering how much I love age 1 and I’m excited for all that is to come. I also wanted to take you to the doctor to get a good update on all your stats. Plus, how can I be sad? This first year with you has been so wonderful and full of memories. Daddy and I can’t believe we’ve been the parents of two for a year.

Little man, you are 20 lbs. 12 oz., in the 17% percentile. You’re 29 1/2 inches long, in the 38th percentile. That noggin reigns supreme at 19 1/4 inches, in the 97th percentile. You’re smaller than I would have guessed you’d be at your first birthday because of your rapid growth as a young infant, but you are right on track and the doctors say you are doing great.

You know how to walk. You either take two steps and then plop back down on your tush and crawl, or you unsteadily walk across the room, then plop on your tush and crawl some more. I think you know how fast you can crawl, so you just do that because you get where you are going faster. There is an exception to that. When you get behind your new Thomas The Train you are off! It doesn’t stop at Thomas. You push your sister’s old Wheely Bug around the house, her doll strollers and your new Mega Blocks truck. You run into our legs, get stuck in the door and scream for help. You are a determined little guy. We love it.

What we don’t love is all the bumps, bruises and scrapes you are suddenly acquiring with all your unsteady movement. You have a cut by your right eye from falling into the kitchen cabinets while pulling yourself up. This is just before family pictures this weekend, naturally. Of course, right before your Baby Dedication at church you banged your head in the bathtub and got a bruise on your left eye. Sweet baby! Please be careful! You have your mama on edge. I’m constantly chasing you and scooping you up to save you from yourself! Don’t hurt that handsome little face!

You are eating everything now. We try to give you as many of the same foods we eat everyday.  You are SO MESSY! If we’re at home, I don’t bother with a bib. You rip it off. We just strip you down. Henry, it is not unusual to give you multiple baths in a day after eating or pooping. The broom and the vacuum are always nearby when you eat, son. We have also taken a scrub brush to your high chair in recent weeks to clean caked-on food.

You love your Daddy and get so excited when he comes home. You watch your big sister and love to play with whatever she’s playing with. You two are learning to share. You still love to snuggle with me while nursing, just a few times a day. You love when I sing little songs for you and play peek-a-boo.

Henry, we play this little game, where I open the door and “surprise” you when you lay down for a nap or for bed. You giggle heartily and sleepily before falling asleep. The sound of your laughter is one of the best sounds in our house. You make our family whole. Your giggles make our hearts whole. Thank you for the privilege of being your mother. Thank you for a great first year. I love you, my sweet, sweet boy.

Love,

Mama

Dear Henry,

Notice your 11 month photo does not highlight my finest photography skills. Little Sir, it is very difficult to take your picture these days. This was the best we could do. See the shadow? That’s Daddy. We held you down and let go really quick. I changed the shutter speed on the camera and everything. This was the best shot I got with you smiling. Phew!

I’m late with your letter this month. We’ve been busy and we’ll only get busier as we get closer to your birthday. You help keep us busy and you’re not even walking yet. We can barely get anything done with you crawling so fast, pulling yourself up on everything, climbing the stairs and opening the cabinets. You climb up in the dishwasher, try to open the lid of the trashcan, throw dog food from the dog bowl aaaannnnddd this…

All the activity is okay because you are joyful. Henry, you have a fun spirit. You have learned to clap. You often get multiple baths in a day because you are such a messy eater. You give a funny “stink face” to people, especially when you first wake up. I hope to capture it on camera soon, but again, you are tough to photograph.

Your downy soft infant hair is gone and curls have crept in. They are wild and wonderful, just like you. Tonight you fell asleep in my arms. We rocked and rocked because you were still. You stop and snuggle only sometimes. When you do, it is lovely and sweet, wild and wonderful.

I love you, my sweet, sweet boy.

Love,

Mama

Dear Henry,

I could sit here and lament that you are in double-digit months, but I won’t. Instead I’m going to write about all the awesome, funny things you do and tell you how you make life amazing.

I joke that you are what someone would get if they crossed a tiny bull with a squirmy puppy. You never stop moving. You’re fast and loud. Your excited, piercing screams are a new thing none of us are sure we love. You are not at all gentle. Henry, sometimes you’re aggressive when you grab my hair, or your big sister’s hair and pull. You scratch and claw other babies faces when you play. You don’t mean to. You are just having fun. You are aggressive, but adorably aggressive and do it with a big toothy grin.

This is an outtake from pictures from the wedding last week. I have a tight grip on you. Trust me, you are screaming and laughing.

I have to have back up when changing your diaper. If no one else is around I sometimes hold you upright and let you “stand” while changing you with one hand. You refuse to lay still on the changing table. I often hand you the TV remote sans batteries that you love so much. That still doesn’t keep you still. The remote is sans batteries because you change channels when chewing and holding it. We gave you your own.

At your nine month checkup we learned all this moving means you have slimmed down big time! You are not the chunky baby you were a few months ago. You are 19 lbs. 5 oz. and just in the 24th percentile for weight and 41st for height. Your head is still large and in charge in the 98th percentile. Baby hats are no longer an option. Only toddler hats. Poor kid, sometimes I have to work to get shirts over that noggin. Some won’t go over at all. You can wear clothes sizes from 6 months to 12 months.

I love our time together feeding you in the highchair everyday. Your smiles and funny faces as you try new foods make it fun. You are liking more finger foods and always up for whatever’s cooking in the kitchen.

You keep us laughing, Henry. You make us an even better family. We love watching the little person you’re becoming.

I love you, my sweet, sweet boy.

Love,

Mama