My Dearest Nico Nico,

Two years ago today, I was one day shy of 39 weeks pregnant—two weeks more pregnant than I’d ever been before; full of baby and anticipation and excitement mixed with fear about what the next few days and weeks might hold. Your presence inside of me, a 40-year-old mom who didn’t think I could get pregnant on my own, still seemed almost too miraculous to be real; part of me felt that an uncomplicated VBAC delivery and healthy baby were too much to hope for. And a smooth transition to life with four kids? It was a request that felt almost outlandish to pray. And yet, that is exactly the gift God granted us. All of it and more.

That night, the contractions began; by morning I knew it was go-time. We hustled your older siblings off to Grandma and Grandpa’s house, and Daddy and I headed to the hospital where we never fully settled in, hadn’t even finished all the paperwork, before it was abundantly clear that you were ready to make your debut. Two pushes later, and you were in this world, snuggled onto my chest in all your sticky goodness; the doctor arrived just in time to deliver the afterbirth. You were perfection embodied in a 6 pound, 12 ounce package; if I could bottle and sell the elation I felt at holding you in my arms, we’d be millionaires.

Some things haven’t changed in the two years of your time with us. You still love snuggling up on my chest, are still the cuddliest and mama’s-boy-est of all my kids. You still love your milkies and would happily camp out suckling all day long, even if our nursing sessions these days are a lot more vocal (you request for “offies [milkies] in the chair”) and gymnastic (“other side, Mama” as you twist from side to side). You are still one of the most adorably precious souls I’ve ever laid eyes on. You can still melt me with a sigh, a look, a curl of the hand.

And yet, as every mama knows, these years are far too short; in many ways EVERYTHING has changed in the two years that have been your lifetime. There’s the obvious: you are bigger now—still tiny at just over twenty pounds and not even on the growth charts, but much bigger than the jelly bean that burst into our lives two years ago. There’s your facial expressions that are so much more dynamic and intentional because you absolutely love to make faces that capture the room. There is the full set of teeth that were slow and painful to come in but that you now put to great use. There are the giggles and playtimes and activity and words and opinions . . . so many opinions! There are the snuggles that feel intentional, like you actually like me and want to hang out, like I’m more to you than just a food source.

And then there is that hair! The short, straight, black hair you were born with fell out completely and has been replaced with thick locks of gorgeous blond curls. Those curls are your most notable feature, a constant compliment-grabber, and I never ever want to cut them. (Daddy may have a thing or two to say about that.)

In some ways your personality has hardly changed from Day One. You’ve always been my neediest kiddo, and that’s still true. You really love being held and having my full attention, which is great when we can cuddle at home or when we are going for walks and you’re happy to hang out in the carrier. But it’s tough when my attention is needed elsewhere and you won’t let me put you down.

You have very strong opinions and can be pretty bossy about having things your way (we’ve had plenty of meltdowns over cups placed slightly askew on a table or toys that were not pulled out in just the right way). And as you’ve approached the “terrible twos,” a new territorial/possessive side has emerged, with everything being “mine!” (Mama’s lap especially, but also every toy and every food item and every piece of furniture in your view.)

I’m grateful that you are much better behaved when Mama is out of sight. You are happy to be dropped off with nursery workers at the Y or homeschool co-op or church; you are always the class favorite among your teachers because you are generous with your smiles and waves and manners. Speaking of manners, you have them in abundance. You never neglect to say “thank you” to a compliment or kind gesture or sometimes just because. You usually tack on the name at the end (“thank you, Mama”) and sometimes even the reason for your gratitude (“thank you, Daddy, for food”).

I cannot get over your vocabulary and language skills. You love pointing to and naming things and you pick up new words at lightning speed. Items that don’t have a name yet are simply “this,” any place you don’t know is “that way” with a pointed finger, and things that are difficult for you are “too heavy.” When I ask you to do something, you are quick with a straightforward “no” or a resigned “tay” or a perky “okay Mama!” You chatter constantly, and while we usually understand what you say, we sometimes get it wrong and can’t fake our way to understanding—something that frustrates you to no end. You sometimes talk about yourself in the first person, which always makes me smile, and you are great at expressing your feelings: “Nico sad” (after a cry); “I’m sleepy” (while lying your head on my lap); “Ow, my tummy hurts” (while clutching your stomach); “Bug bite, itchy, I need cream Mommy” (rubbing an imaginary bug bite); or—my favorite— “I love you, Mama” (said with a hug and a nose-to-nose “ugga mugga”). It is kind of hilarious to see so much language come from such a tiny little guy.

Your intelligence is off the charts. Okay, that may be an exaggeration, I am sure every mother thinks her child is a genius. But you really are pretty bright! You’ve mastered all your animal sounds, are working on learning colors (though most things are “blue”), follow along in songs, and add in motions. You can piece together puzzles and figure out new-to-you toys. You are curious, always observant and attentive, absorbing everything. You are around for all of our school time and it’s remarkable how much of our memory work you are picking up.

And on the subject of school: trying to get it done with the big kids while you are around is a huge challenge, because you’d rather be the star of our show. Reading aloud is done with you nursing on my lap. We have you join us at the table to color or play with blocks when we can. When the other kids need my full attention, you hang out in the office with Daddy while he stands at his desk. Much to our relief, this works: you happily play with Legos or other toys at his feet, and the other kids come in to join you when they get a break from their lessons. When you start to get fussy, Daddy joins you on the floor to “read book” which is probably your favorite thing, you can’t get enough picture books!

When we get you out of your fussy mode, you can be so much fun to play with, and your play is much more advanced than most kids your age, a perk of being the youngest of four kids. You love any sort of building toy (Legos, blocks, marble runs), making pillow forts, coloring, singing songs, or playing hide-and-seek, and you are fully engaged in each task. You adore watching Daniel Tiger when we allow screen time on the weekends, and you are always up for racing around the house with your siblings. You are also very attached to Tucker the Toucan, your favorite stuffy, and your siblings are great at bringing him to you for a cuddle when you’re sad.

It may seem silly to talk about things like sleep and eating habits in a letter like this, but those are details I know I’ll want to remember (and that I’m always interested in hearing about other kids), so here we go: you have been very slow to pick up eating. You didn’t begin drinking from anything but the breast (no bottles, no cups, nothing!) until you were seventeen months old. Now you prefer milk and other drinkable things (yogurt drinks, smoothies, etc.) to almost anything else. You pretty predictably like fruit and raw or cooked vegetables and yogurt/ice cream, and you inhale corn (on the cob, popped, from a can), but nearly everything else is hit or miss; and even on the good days, you take a couple of bites of each thing on your plate and you are done. You like sauces more than food itself, and especially like hot sauce—you have a surprisingly high spice tolerance (it’s probably the hot sauce I drank by the gallon during my pregnancy).

Sleep is also somewhat of a struggle. Other than when you fall asleep in the car, you will only nap on me, and only in the afternoon; I love those snuggles, but wish I could use your naptime to be productive! We have a little more luck at night time: I’m able to nurse you to sleep and put you down in the toddler bed in our room (a new addition as of this month!), and you sleep there for a few hours before crawling into bed with us to nurse through the rest of the night. We love cosleeping with you, even though we wish you could be a little more independent. . . but I’m certain that these days will soon come to an end, and that we will miss this clingier stage!

As I’ve mentioned a few times now, you can have very big preferences and emotions. Sometimes the only thing that works to shake you out of a tantrum is to get you outside. Daddy brings you to the yard to water the lawn or pick tomatoes and you immediately calm down. You are such an outdoorsy boy and enjoy digging in the dirt, throwing rocks, and just being out.

The water is your other happy place. You love being in the bathtub or the shower, and you’ve had lots of fun in the pool this summer. You wear your puddle-jumper floaties and have gotten comfortable enough to let me release you to float on your own for a bit. You even love jumping into the water and are so brave when your face dips beneath the surface. I love seeing the joy you exude while swimming.

You have been in no hurry to reach your physical milestones. You didn’t start crawling until eleven months and didn’t take your first independent steps until this past April, when you were almost twenty months old! The doctor had even given us a referral to a physical therapist to help get you moving, but we were able to avoid that by working with you on our own, and eventually you decided that walking was pretty fun. Your first Frankenstein steps were a total hoot. Now you are a champ! You can *almost* run and love walking backwards and spinning and doing other silly moves. And then there is the climbing, at which you are an absolute pro. This is great and also kind of terrifying at playgrounds, which you can fully navigate on your own—even the big slides!

As the youngest of four, there are some things that you are a little more delayed on: for instance, I think you walked so late because there were so many people willing to carry you! And then there are some areas where the presence of older kids has helped you to become more advanced—see: verbal skills, and the fact that you have already been asking to use the potty, even going up to the toilet and trying to pull your pants down yourself, although we have yet to begin official potty training (which definitely will be starting soon). I have a feeling the bossiness and territorialism are part of your being a youngest child, too; Charleston didn’t need to be territorial because he was the only kid for so long, and as twins, Kali and Sully learned to share from the beginning. As the youngest, you kind of rule the roost and you know it!

I think that your being a ham also has to do with all the attention you get as the youngest. And my goodness, do you get lots of attention! You are the favorite sibling of all three big kids. They LOVE playing with you, race to help or entertain you at every opportunity, cry when you get really upset, are always checking in with you and teaching you new things and creating fun new activities for you to do together. They marvel over every new milestone and coo over your baby pictures, sentimental at how quickly you are growing. It is the most precious thing in the world to see them loving on you and to watch your affection for them, how you look to them for cues on how to act and take their total adoration for granted. Whenever they aren’t around, you say “I go see big kids, my Kali, my Sully, my Charlie!”

I asked the kids to share a favorite thing about you for this letter and here’s what they each said:

Sully ~ “I like when you play with us while Mom makes lunch or does school, and I like when you make marble runs with us.”

Kali ~ “I like that you’re so cute when you wake us up in the morning. You come into our rooms and say, ‘Kali, Charlie, Sully!’ And I like when Mommy picks us all up from the Y and you run to us and smile.”

Charlie ~ “I love how cute and adorable you are, and I think you’re especially cute when you laugh. I miss pushing you around in your Daniel Tiger trolley.” (Those were the sweetest days, just after you turned one, when Charlie would race you around the house in your little push toy. Now you push HIM on it!)

So, my sweet Nico, what do I love most about you? I love our little conversations, with you asking or answering questions, making observations, learning about our life and your world. I love how your face lights up when we’ve been apart and you run towards me. I love how you tack “mommy” onto almost every question or phrase. I love how you will stand in front of me and demand “picture, mama!” and pose and “cheese” for the camera (except when we tried to take these birthday photos, during which you were unusually reluctant with your smiles). I love that when I tell you to close your eyes and try to sleep, you cover your face with your hands and squeeze your eyelids tight.

I love how easily you get excited, shouting yay and clapping or chanting for something you like as you bounce from foot to foot. I love seeing you play with your siblings, positive you are a big kid and completely sure of your place among them. I love how comfortably you fit into the crook of my hip, tucked into my arm. I’m already grieving the days when I can’t carry you around all the time, when you can no longer pass as a baby—though we all know you will always be my baby.

Nickelson Ryan, if it isn’t already clear, I absolutely adore you and am grateful for every second of these two years we’ve had with you—even those really tough moments when I think I’m hardly cut out to be your mom. I’m glad that God knew how much we needed you as part of our family. Happy, happy birthday Little Man!

Love Always,

Mama

TL; DR RECAP:

Key Adjectives—adorable, bright, verbal, tiny, Mama’s boy, polite, curious, total ham

Dislikes—sleeping alone, sharing

Likes—Daniel Tiger, water play, popcorn, yogurt drinks, Mama’s milkies, Legos, coloring, reading books, playgrounds, being outside

Adored by—absolutely everyone!