The Past Five Years

Dear Ella,


Where do I start? Your birth five years ago marked my life. As my first born, you represent my introduction to motherhood–with all of its tears and confusion. You also represent the beginning of my life as a mom. 

You exude strength. You are silly. Confident. Stubborn. Dramatic. Artistic. Talkative. People flock towards you.

There are days that I lose myself in your eyes and wonder how you became the person you are today. Are you really my daughter? Bubbly, boisterous, and beautiful. I am so grateful for who you are. I am envious of your passion for life, your confidence, your ambitions. 

You have taught me so many great things and opened up my eyes to a new world. You make my heart sing out loud when I look in the rear view mirror of my minivan. I see you break out in song as your limbs start dancing and I smile at your honesty. You are always happy and pure and I want to bottle your soul up for the next day. And. The next.

You, sweet daughter, are the life of the party – any party. And if there isn’t a party, you are determined to either find one or start one. You love people, more than perhaps anyone I know. Everyday is wonderful in your eyes and that makes my days more wonderful too.

However, I’m not going let you get off that easy. You are also a stubborn little girl who, once fixated on something, has an almost impossible time of letting go, which results in some difficult bedtimes.

I love you Ella. I love your sass and your heart. I love your love of fashion and accessories. Daddy better get ready - you, your sister and I will be great shopping partners in crime in the future. I love your creativity and imagination. I love imagining who you will become and what you will accomplish in life.

Dear Aidan,

I remember the first glimpse I got of you as you were pulled from the womb. 9:33 AM, May 8, 2007. 7 pounds, 10 ozs. So tiny and yet so mighty! 

My goodness, where has the time gone? After I put Lauren in bed tonight, I got out some of you and Ella's old baby photos and sifted through them, spreading them out on the floor around me, carefully picking each one up and admiring them. I smiled, I laughed, I cried... but they were happy tears. You might think that I'm crazy, but you'll understand one day.




This phrase is used all too often, but it is true that words cannot express my love for you, sweet baby. At the “grown up” age of five, I suppose that you would wrinkle your nose at that term of endearment, but you will always be my "sweet baby," even when you are ninety-seven years old. Holding you in my arms for the first time, was the first time in my life that I had ever truly felt unconditional love. That love will never fade, sweet boy. I hope that you know that.

Energetic and spunky - you are growing up and starting to realize that you have a mind of your own. You're pushing limits, testing boundaries. Nothing out of the ordinary for your age. Daddy and I are trying our best to lead you in the right direction and help you grow into a bright, responsible young man. No matter how frustrated we may become with each other some days, that unconditional love will never fade. There may be days that you do not like me very much, but you must know that I will always love you. ALWAYS. Remember that when you are sixteen.

It brings tears to my eyes to think about how grown up you have become. You are simply amazing inside and out. Never have I met such a caring child as you - always putting others in front of you - your friends, your sisters, your family. Aidan, I have always said that you are an old soul. My silent learner who is wise behind your years. You may not like to show off the things you know and can do like your sister does, but rest assured, you are right in line with the same capabilities....just a little more humble about your accomplishments - a trait that will serve you well in life and one of the many things I admire about you. And little man, the conversations that you and I have just blow me away. You understand so much!

Looking Back...and Forward


My heart is overflowing. I'm relishing the memories... those first days and weeks, where I was terrified and overwhelmed with this new feeling of love; how did your Daddy and I get so lucky - so lucky that we were chosen to be the parents of two sweet little babies? Your adorable toddler days, with those cute little pigtails and chubby cheeks; driving you to your first day of Preschool, lugging backpacks that were half your size; all the days in between, and now... your last few days of Preschool, almost a kindergartner. Before I know it, you'll be moving out of the house and going to college. Getting married. Having babies.
I wish that life had a pause button, or at least a slow-motion option. I'm looking forward to the memories we will be making and the experiences yet to be had, but for right now... I wish that I could just slow things down for a few minutes. It won't be long before Mom will be uncool and you'd rather go hang out at the mall then cuddle with me on the couch, having a snack and watching The Fresh Beat Band.