Dear Littles

Dear littlest Littles,

I’m sorry that sometimes (ok, a lot of times) us grownups and the bigger Littles are snarky at you. It’s not your fault. Please don’t ever think it is. I mean, yes, sometimes you’re annoying. Sometimes you try really hard at being annoying. But, you’re little, it’s almost like your job. So *cough* keep up the good work. Because, even though sometimes we act like it is, being a kid is NOT a crime.

Sometimes us bigger guys, we just get so caught up in our own thoughts and minds and phones and computers and in trying to talk to each other about grownup stuff that we forget to make space for you, literally and figuratively. Mentally and physically. You’re the ones who are supposed to be self absorbed but, really, we are even more self absorbed than you are. Because you’re trying to pull us into your world and we are fighting to keep our feet firmly planted in Grownup Land.

Your innocent curiosity, your desire to be included and your child-like chattiness can sometimes seem a little bit like a pesky mosquito buzzing around our ears. We swat it away without thinking. Without looking. Without listening. And, then, before we know what’s happened, we’ve hurt you. It’s thoughtless. It’s WRONG. And, we do it to each other, too. It’s all wrong.

You know what? I actually remember what it’s like to be a Little and to be snarked at by grownups when I was just being…a kid. When I didn’t see it coming. When I didn’t deserve it. I remember that quick, sinking feeling, almost like a punch in the stomach. I remember the hurt of it. The fear. The instant lump in my throat and the tears in my eyes. The insecurity in myself it caused. I remember that like it was yesterday. It was awful.

It breaks my heart knowing that, more than once, many times in fact, I have inflicted this wound upon you. Upon all of you, little Littles and bigger Littles. I’m so sorry. I will try harder. We will all try harder.

Dear bigger Littles,

I know you didn’t sign up for this. I mean, who has five kids in this day and age anyway? I know you didn’t sign up to be constantly surrounded by noise and stomping feet and incessant chatter. I KNOW. I know that, because the little Littles are around, there is much less of me to go around. I know that I am the single, fragile thread that binds us all together in our unique and wonderful family and that I can only stretch so far and that it really isn’t fair that you can’t even talk to me without being poked, prodded and picked at by the Littles. I feel the pressure of that, too. I feel the guilt of that. All. The. Time.

I also know that you love those Littles more fiercely than I could have ever hoped for and that you’re glad for our family, even if it means you’ve had to share me more than you would like. And, I know you would do anything for those Littles, to keep them safe and happy and cared for. I know. I know and I’m so freaking proud of ALL of you.

I also know that you’ve learned to snark from the master of all snarky bitches and that it’s not your fault. Trust me, I know. And, I’m sick over it. And, I’m sorry for it.

Just please try to remember those two little Littles adore you. When you are not home (which is a lot and I don’t blame you), while you are away at school (all year) they ask about you constantly. Every single day. They want to know where you are. They want to know why you are where you are. They want to know when you’ll be home. They want to play video games with you. They want to do pushups and lift weights with you. They want to paint nails with you. They want to go places with you. They tell everyone they know (and many perplexed people they don’t know) about you. They idolize you. They want to be just like you.

I convince them to eat things like rice and chicken so they can grow big like you. So much of what they do and who they are is influenced by who you are and what you do. They are so lucky to have you. You all are so lucky to have each other.

So, please be soft with them. Be gentle with their little hearts. Please let’s all just try to be gentle with each other.

Love,

Snarky Mom

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