Dear Munchie,
This is a picture of you at your Big Sister class, before Tessa was born:
We couldn’t tell that day if you were ticked off that you were getting a sibling, or if you were insulted that we thought you needed to learn anything about taking care of babies. From the get-go, you told everyone who would listen that it was a girl baby in Mommy’s belly and that a boy simply was not a possibility. Thank goodness you were right. You are not so easily convinced of the things that you do not believe to be true.
For example, when we ask you about Down syndrome and what might be different about Tessa, your only answer is that she has more strings than you do. You seem to not notice the little differences that set her apart – and when other kids point out her braces or her walker, I love how you so matter-of-factly say “well she just has them.” Like duh, of course she does. Why wouldn’t she?
The child who asked us about medical marijuana because she heard it on the radio, and who is surrounded by talk of therapists and doctors and IEP goals, has no reason to believe that Tessa is any different than anyone else.
I am so proud of the model you are for others by just playing with Tessa as you do any other child. Sometimes you get mad at me when we treat her differently. Like this morning when I told you to stop putting so many puzzle pieces in front of her because it was too overwhelming. You just looked at me, then continued to stack them in front her. “It’s part of her lesson, Mom.” Ok, little teacher. Do your thing.
I don’t think we have to worry about you being your own person; you have already made it perfectly clear that you will be just who you want to be. There was some very tiny fear in me when we first had Tessa that you might get swallowed up into a life that revolved around her needs. However, that fear quickly vanished as Down syndrome has faded into the background and your (very large) personality has really taken center stage. I think that in the ebb and flow of family life, you and she will alternate in the spotlight… and sometimes you’ll share it (in which case, we will be tired). In any case, I’m so glad that you are you and she is she – you are the most darling little set of sisters… even when you fight. I won’t ask you to do anything more for her than be yourself, but I have this feeling that your own heart will lead you to being a champion for her… and her for you, too.
I’m so proud of you.
Love,
Mom
Yo soy La Lay 
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