Hey Monkey, today is an auspicious day. Today, with some luck, you’ve officially started being a Big Sister. Today, Mommy and I found out that we’re going to be parents again.
Well, not that we aren’t already parents. You’ve been the light in our lives for (almost) two years, and each and every day with you has been such a joy. Really. This isn’t some crazy platitude that parents are forced to tell their children to make them feel good. This is truth, as honest as it gets. You are wonderful. You are more perfect than either your mother or I could ever have dreamed.
Which sometimes makes me wonder what your sibling will be like...
Mommy and I have joked (on more than one occassion) that we used up all of our good fortune with you. You sleep unbelievably well (even through thunderstorms), travel better than virtually any other child that we’ve heard of (your last trip from Vancouver back to San José was perhaps your worst, though Mommy and you travelled without me), you eat almost anything that we put in front of you (provided you haven’t eaten within the previous three hours, anyway), and you seem to charm just about everyone you meet. You’re going to be a serious heartbreaker one day.I just hope it ain’t my heart.
As a result, perhaps your sibling will be a holy terror? Naturally, we don’t know yet. We’re still about eight months from finding out. It’s a long way away, and there’s a lot that can happen between now and then. Naturally, all my hopes are that things go according to plan, and welcome a healthy new baby to the world. I don’t know if it will be a girl or a boy, but if the last two years are any indication, I don’t care which it is. So long as they’re as perfect as you are.
This will be a big event for you, Monkey. You need to grow up just a little bit more. You’ve been my little girl, my perfect little baby. Now you need to be the Big Sister. You’ll need to be the one who protects your sister or brother. The one who stands over them when they need help, who picks them up when they fall down, who’ll show them the ropes of life, where Mommy and Daddy hide the good cookies, and exactly which buttons to push to drive your parents off the deep end.
These are the responsibilities of being the elder child. You’ll be first for everything (well, most things, anyway). You’ll be able to share your wisdom and experience, and help wherever you go. I hope you’re looking forward to this. You’ve loved babies for a long time, and soon you’ll have a real one you can see and play with every day.
Though I do hope you’ll be a little more careful with your sibling than you are with some of your toys.