My sweet baby,
Today you turned one, and I’m sitting here trying to process how we both survived this year. Not just survived, thrived, even when it felt like we were barely hanging on.
I need you to know something: this year changed us both in ways I never saw coming.
The Year That Broke Us Open (In the Best Way)
Twelve months ago, I thought I knew what I was getting into. After all, I’d done this before with your big brother. But you, my sweet second baby, you came into this world and reminded me that every child is their own person, with their own timeline and their own way of doing things.
This time around, I wasn’t frantically googling every little thing or comparing myself to the highlight reels on Instagram. I was tired, so incredibly tired from the sleep deprivation while trying to launch a business so I wouldn’t have to return to traditional work, but I was also more present. More relaxed. More able to just be with you in those quiet moments.
The Sweet Surrender of Second-Time Motherhood
Here’s what I want to tell every mom who’s considering baby number two, and what I want every millennial mom reading this to know: the second time around isn’t necessarily easier, but it can be so much sweeter. I knew this time that the newborn phase wouldn’t last forever. I knew that crying didn’t always mean I was doing something wrong. I knew that some days survival mode is actually success mode.
Sweet baby, you got the more relaxed version of me. The one who didn’t stress about every nap schedule or worry when you hit milestones at your own pace. You got the mom who had learned that trusting my instincts was more valuable than any expert advice.
The Moments That Made It All Worth It
This year gave us so many firsts that I was actually able to savor instead of frantically trying to capture on my phone. Your first real belly laugh, your first foods, your first words, I was more present for all of it because I wasn’t constantly second-guessing myself.
Yes, I was exhausted. Building a business while caring for you and your sibling meant early mornings, late nights, and coffee that became my love language. But I was also happier. More confident. More able to trust the process and enjoy the journey.
You didn’t care that I was juggling client calls during your nap time or that dinner was sometimes whatever I could throw together while bouncing you on my hip. You just cared that I was there, present and actually enjoying these fleeting moments instead of wishing them away.
The Mom I Became Because of You
Being your mom this year taught me that confidence grows with experience, but so does appreciation. I used to think being a good mom meant having everything together. Now I know it means being present for what matters while letting go of what doesn’t.
You’ve seen me chase a dream while changing your diapers. You’ve watched me take important calls while you played at my feet. You’ve been there as I figured out how to build something meaningful for our family’s future while soaking up your babyhood.
I want you to know that every sleepless night spent working after you went to bed, every moment I doubted if I could balance it all, every time I chose to pursue this path so I could be more present for you and your sibling, it was all part of us becoming exactly who we were meant to be together.
To My Fellow Millennial Moms
If you’re reading this while your little one naps, or while hiding in your car for five minutes of silence, or during that sacred post-bedtime scroll time, I see you. We’re the generation caught between our parents’ “figure it out” approach and the overwhelming amount of information available at our fingertips.
We’re trying to gentle parent while dealing with our own childhood stuff. We’re building businesses and side hustles to create the flexibility we crave. We’re trying to maintain friendships, marriages, and some semblance of our pre-baby identity while growing entire humans and raising the siblings who came before.
It’s a lot. But with you, my sweet second baby, I learned it can also be really, really good.
The Permission Slip We All Need
Here’s your permission slip, mama: The second time around, you get to be more relaxed. You get to trust yourself more. You can enjoy the newborn snuggles without constantly worrying about creating bad habits. You can let the dishes sit while you savor story time with both kids.
Your baby doesn’t need perfect. They need present. And sometimes, being present means building something meaningful in the background while they play, showing them what it looks like to pursue dreams while prioritizing what matters most.
Looking Forward
My sweet one-year-old, as we start year two together, I’m not making any promises about having it all figured out, but I’m making this promise: I’m going to keep savoring these moments. I’m going to keep building something beautiful for our family while being present for your childhood.
I’m sure there will still be challenging days, more sleep-deprived mornings, more times when I have to remind myself that progress matters more than perfection. But I’m also excited, so much more relaxed and excited than I was the first time around.
Excited to see who you become. Excited to watch you and your sibling grow together. Excited to show you what it looks like to chase dreams while never losing sight of what truly matters.
This year taught me that motherhood isn’t about getting it right, it’s about showing up with love, even when you’re not sure what you’re doing. It’s about celebrating the small victories and extending grace for the hard days. It’s about finding joy in the ordinary moments that make up our extraordinary life together.
The Real Milestones
The baby books track when you rolled over, sat up, and took your first steps. But they don’t track when I finally stopped comparing myself to other moms. They don’t mark the day I realized that my intuition was stronger than any expert advice. They don’t celebrate the moment I understood that my love for you was enough, even when everything else felt insufficient.
Those are the milestones that matter, sweet baby. The ways we both grew into exactly who we needed to be.
A Promise
As you grow, I promise to keep learning alongside you. I promise to make mistakes and model how to apologize and try again. I promise to show you that being human means feeling all the feelings, the joy, the frustration, the overwhelming love that sometimes takes your breath away.
And to every millennial mom reading this: we’re doing better than we think. Our kids are going to be okay, more than okay. They’re going to be resilient, empathetic humans who know they are deeply loved, even when (especially when) love looks imperfect.
Happy first birthday, my love. Thank you for one of the hardest, most beautiful year of my life.
Here’s to year two, and all the beautiful chaos it will bring.
All my love, Your very human, very imperfect, very devoted mama
P.S. To my fellow millennial moms: The coffee is always on, the judgment is always off, and you’re always welcome here. We’re all just figuring it out together.
The Balanced Mom
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