I’ve followed Laura and her beautiful family on social media for some time now and one of her instagram posts a few weeks ago really stood out for me. It was written for her son Harrison following the recent birth of his little sister Everly. It’s so heartfelt and honest and read so much like a beautiful letter I wanted to share it.
Nothing hurts more than telling you “in a minute” or “later” when you ask if I’ll play with you for what feels like the millionth time.
Nothing makes me feel that lump in my throat more than not being the one to tuck you into bed to read Ben 10 books because the baby’s crying.
You’re often asleep by the time I’m kissing your cheek and telling you I love you and that’s another moment with you missed. You’re already in a sleepy haze when I climb into your bed, hug you and apologise for not giving you the every minute that you deserved today.
Even though I tell you a million times a day to the point like that you say “yes mum, I know!” I want to tell you one more time, I love you I love you I love you.
I want to colour in with you all day. I want to throw you around and tickle you and I want to build the highest towers and make bridges out of furniture, but sometimes, I have my hands full. I’m sorry for telling you to be quiet when you’re simply doing what little boys do and playing with your toys. I’m sorry for shouting when the slight drop of a toy wakes Everly. It’s not your fault and I’m so sorry that you are the one to tell me “it’s ok” from time to time at the moment. I should be the one telling you not to cry for being tired. I feel like a broken record sometimes, going over the same things and I’m sorry.
You’re so grown up that from time to time I forget that you’re still tiny too. You’re so understanding and you’ve dealt with becoming a big brother so well, I’m so proud. I couldn’t be prouder and Everly is so lucky to have you as a big brother. I won’t always be this tired H and I promise that tomorrow I’ll play loads more than today. I’ll build those towers and make the fastest slides for your cars. I’ll let you sneak the best treats from my special tin and keep it our little secret. I’ll try not to get cross, I promise. I’ll try not to blame you for the tiniest noise that makes Everly stir. I’ll hug you harder and read you as many pages of your book as you like.
Today’s been a harder day than normal, but again, you were so understanding and looked after your sister so well putting her socks back on when they fell off.
I love you Harrison.