Two Turn Two

Dear Jesse & Taylor,

I used to say first birthdays were the hardest. Nothing quite prepared me for the emotions I felt as your brother, and then in turn you two, crossed that first big threshold – the one where I could no longer call you babies and had to accept those newborn days were long gone. But when I made that statement I had no idea just what was to come. I went into the majority of my pregnancy with you believing that I understood it would be the last time I carried life, got to experience the highs and lows of welcoming a new, tiny bundle into our family and all the joy that goes with it. And for a while that seemed fine – I was wrapped up in the wonder of my new, beautiful baby boys and getting to grips with all the challenges raising twins brings, and it couldn’t have been further from my mind. But the truth is, I know now that wasn’t quite true. While I knew in my head that more babies were very unlikely, I’m not actually sure my heart agreed, and slowly but surely, in the year that as passed since your first birthday, the realisation crept in. Suddenly, your birthdays are not just an emotional reminder of how fast time is passing. Now they are also a stark reminder that as each of these milestones passes, it is more than likely the last time I will ever experience it. We still have so many firsts to experience together – I know that of course. But I find it hard not to wince as I realise some of those wonderful moments we’ve shared together so far, probably happened for the very last time already and I can’t pretend it doesn’t break my heart a little. Every few months you seem to morph into something new, and while it’s always something wonderful that fills me with pride, I also feel a loss of the tiny person that was once there, and that has only become more intense now that there probably won’t be another first smile, first tooth, first step, first word…

While I’m finding this stage of life hard to come to terms with, I know that I don’t want to waste a moment feeling sad while these awesome little people are forming right in front of my eyes, so I try everyday to remind myself about just how special you are.

Jesse, my sweet, sensitive child. I’m not sure I’ve ever met someone with more love to give than you. You’re always trying to anticipate the needs of others in such a caring way, whether its bringing me my slippers or phone, finding Taylor’s lovie when he’s upset or sharing your snacks. Even when you’re tired, hurting, sad or just frustrated when your growing body can’t quite do what your clever little mind wants it to, you always have a warm embrace for me. One of my favorite parts of every day is succumbing one of your hugs. You hug with your whole body, gripping onto my shoulders, wrapping your legs around my waist and snuggling into my neck in a way that makes me feel so loved and so needed that I can’t help but stop and just breathe you in. Just the other day you fell asleep like that, lying across my belly just like when you were a little baby, and I wanted that moment to last forever. These last few weeks you seem to have come on so much – you are speaking more and more every day and I feel as though I’ll never tire of hearing you call ‘Mummeeeeeeey!’ as your little footsteps pitter patter down the hall to my room in the morning. You’ve started trying to count, make animal noises and love to pretend to cook for us on your little play kitchen. You have become so adept at building things, amazing us with the towers and shapes you create out of lego and blocks. But most of all, you love music. Whether it’s the theme to a show you love, the music Daddy plays in the kitchen in the mornings or even just the sounds coming out of your toys, as soon as you hear a melody playing a huge smile spreads across your face and you start busting out some moves and its the cutest thing. A lasting memory will always be your pure joy as we played musical statues at your brother’s 4th birthday party – you were too young to play of course, but you danced your little heart out with pure abandon and it was magical to see. I can just see you in years to come, always being the last to leave the dance floor, and know that, at least, is a trait you got from your dear old mum.

“Every few months you seem to morph into something new, and while it’s always something wonderful that fills me with pride, I also feel a loss of the tiny person that was once there, and that has only become more intense now that there probably won’t be another first smile, first tooth, first step, first word…”

And Taylor – my teeny, tiny Taylor. You may be small, but boy, are you fierce! You’ve never had a problem standing up for yourself and I’m always blown away by your confidence! Your best feature by far though is that cheeky smile of yours. A smile that says a million things, I sense you will be able to get away with murder with a flash of that grin one day. Particularly as it seems to be paired with a natural flair for comedy! Even since your baby days you have worked out the exact point to join in a round of laughter, almost as if you understood what was being said. You have the cutest, funniest mannerisms, and I feel like I spend the majority of my time with you chuckling over your antics, but I know there is much more than that to you too. You may not be saying much yet, but you communicate with us so clearly that sometimes I have to remind myself you didn’t actually speak. You are never in a rush to master anything, always happy to sit back and take it all in before one day simply doing it as though you always knew how – I can tell you are wise far beyond your mere two years on this planet. And this is where I see myself in you – an introverted yet sociable soul with a mind that’s always bubbling away. One thing is for sure though – you will shine far brighter than I ever have, my love. You might not be ready to share right now, but I know you have a lot to say, and I can’t wait to hear it.

These changing times have been hard for me to accept, for sure, but they have also brought about some real positives too – the main one being one on one time with you both. We have busy schedules these days, and in fact even before I headed back to work and you started preschool, we’ve always struggled to find that special time, where I could be with just one of you alone, with no competing siblings or responsibilities, and in fact that may be the thing I struggle with the most – knowing how few of those special moments I’ve been able to share with you both. So I’m beyond grateful that we chose to send you both to preschool on separate days sometimes, so we can claw some of that precious time back and make the most of it while it lasts. I am so excited for the coming weeks and all the things we’ll be able to do that I took for granted with Bailey – go for walks and marvel at the world around us, play in the park, pop to the shops for a wander. Even just the act of eating lunch together, playing with your toys or snuggling under a blanket in front of a movie feels different with just one of you. When all three of you are home it is chaotic and noisy, messy and hilarious and so, so full of love. But being with each of you by yourselves is a moment of calm, where I can enjoy little things about you I’d not noticed before, make proper eye contact as we talk, focus on just you and nothing else. These are the moments when I forget to feel sad about my babies growing older, because all I see is the beautiful little creatures you are becoming, the innocence with which you view the world and the wonder and excitement you exude with every new experience. It’s a perfect reminder of all the joy we still have to come. The absolute, pure magic of being two.

Happy belated birthday, my darlings. May each one bring you every happiness.

Love,