To Quinn

Dear Quinn,
I'm sorry I yelled at you the other night. It was time for bed, and I had already read you 5 stories (two hockey books, one Power Rangers, two Thomas the Train), and you insisted on more books. It was quite late, and the nanny said you had only napped for two hours. Rather than settling down to cuddle, you threw your sippy cup and your soother, and carried on with a mini temper tantrum. And started the raspberry blowing with spit flying everywhere - your latest trick. So I yelled.
And finally, you decided it was time to sleep. And here's when you made me feel so low. You snuggled up to me. And took out your soother and said "kiss" or rather, "kith" and planted one on my lips. Then you threw your head back and laughed. I don't know why you thought it was so funny, but you repeated the action and laughed again. A third kiss before you popped the soother back in and headbutted me while climbing on top of me. As you fiddled with your lamb, you asked, "Where's Daddy? Where's Ceilidh? Where's brother? Where's shing?" I assume you meant Aisling.
When I answered they were sleeping, you then asked, "Mommy go work?" That's when I felt the bomb of the working mother guilt go off in my chest. But before I could explain that Mommy was going to cuddle you all night, and not do any work that evening, your siblings crawled into bed and demanded their Mommy time too.
It's been said that the youngest child gets the short end of the parenting stick. There are fewer pictures of the youngest child, especially when there's more than two kids in the family. The youngest rarely gets new clothes, unless of course, the older kids are a completely different sex.The memories of the youngest child often gets mixed up with the memories of the older ones.
I vowed to treasure each of your experiences separately and catalogue them in my memory. And so I won't forget, let me tell you, my dear Quinn, what makes me smile and laugh about you.
The way you greet me at the door, with a huge smile that lights up your entire face and eyes.
The way you laugh your delight when you're playing.
Instead of saying yes to a question, you'll laugh. If I ask you if you'd like more strawberries or apples or go-gurt (yogurt), you'll grin and laugh. And state "peeze".
How you recognize the logos of almost every NHL team in the league and shout out "Hockey!"
How you cheer on your brother at his games. "Go go go! Yeah!"
How you insist on putting on your sister's hockey gear and reach for the hockey sticks, inside the house, which makes me nervous that you'll either break the tv or mirror or smack a sibling in the face. You hate it when I try to offer you the mini sticks. Your daddy swears you'll be an NHL prospect. But your ability to throw the soother and other items makes me wonder if baseball would be a better fit.
How you can eat anything and everything. Quinn - you'll eat two whole grapefruits in one sitting. A whole bunch of steamed broccoli at dinner. Instead of the chicken wings and fries, you dine on the carrots and celery and ranch dressing. Three yogurts and you're still looking for more. You will most likely eat us out of house and home soon. And yet, you're still a light weight. Only 22 pounds at your 2 year check up. Your Uncle Billy swears there must be a tapeworm.
How happy you are to see your siblings at the end of each day.
The way you rub your forehead against mine.
The way you run - arms tucked in against your sides, but still swinging back and forth, while your little bum jiggles and your feet scamper across the floor.
The way you will simply force your way next to me whenever I'm cuddling a sibling of your's. You throw yourself on top and wedge your tiny body next to mine, and push the offending sibling out of the way, and state with authority, "MY Mommy!"
How you wake you up every morning, with a ready smile and a desire to cuddle.
The time you discovered a hole in your sock,and how fascinated you were that you could see your toes.
How you wrestle with your siblings and the mischievous laugh you have when you know I'm trying to catch you to put some pyjamas on. You look back and take off around the house or somersault all over the bed, trying to hide underneath the pillows, only to laugh uncontrollably when you're caught.
The way you go around the house, calling out "Mommy, where are youuuu?" whenever I'm out of your sight, and then laughing and stating "There you are" when you find me.
How I can still soothe your hurts and tears with a kiss and cuddle.
How you must know that by saying "Peeze" while smiling at me, I'll probably give in to whatever requests you have.

My baby boy, I love you, and I can't promise I won't yell at you again in the near future (in fact I'm quite sure, there will be much yelling and disagreements). But I can  promise there will always be lots of hugs and kisses.