On Promises

Dear One,

      Promise me that the next time you are able to give to someone, be it time or money or housing or grace, that you won't forget how it felt to be the one receiving all of that and more. 

      Promise me that you will not lose yourself to smallness again, after having gone through this stretch of such need and reliance on others.  

   Just as having received can make you a better giver, so can having known small make each future straightening of the spine more honest. 

     
      Promise me that you will spend time, each day, thanking God for this breath.

                                                 

                                                 And this one.

                                                

                                                 

                                                 And this one. 

                                                

                                                 And this one.

                                                 

                                                  And this one.

                                               

                                                  And this one.

   

     


     Promise me that you will not lose love with these best people in your life, no matter where you live. Or where they do. Love is always an honor. 

     Promise me that you will be open-hearted and opened-eyed enough to see the new best people in your life when they come. And teach your children to do the same. 

   

     Promise me Gratefulness.

     Promise me Trust. 

     Promise me that you will remember your failings to the point of humility, but never to the point of punishing, wounding, stealing your joys.  

   
     Promise me Joy. 
              a little bit, every day 

     Promise me that you will not lose heart, 

                                          

                       because your heart is my favorite thing about you. 

                                                                        Love,

                                                                          Me

  

   

                                                     

On My Brother

Dear One,

       It was so good to get your call yesterday. Your voice carried actual sunlight through the line (or, wireless iphone magical waves, or ... um ...) anyway- hearing you brought sunlight to my heart. Cheesy? Yes. True? 100%.  
       I have missed talking to you. I have missed being a player in your life. Somehow, to my ultimate shame, my own life loomed so large in my vision for a while that yours became all but obscured. forgive me forgive me forgive me
       My own life has, once again, some big changes and challenges barreling down the pike but I want you in on it. And I want to be in on yours, which are no less important or monumental to me. 
       We didn't grow up together in the normal sense of siblings, and I know that has bothered you from time to time. I want you to know though that despite my, advanced age, I find almost daily a new sign of just how much growing up I have yet to do. So... the opportunity is not lost! And I look forward to sharing your mid-life maturation with you as well... decades from now... when it comes. ;) 
       Thanks for taking the time to lean in. This is part of what me leaning back looks like.  Hopefully this letter will find you when you need to hear my voice someday, as I needed yours yesterday, and it will remind you of 2 very important things:
      1) Your sister loves you with all her heart.
      2) That has been and will be true for every moment of your life.


Love,
  me

On Preschool

Dear One,

I promise to make as big a deal over you starting Kindergarten as I have been over your brother starting. 

Love,
Mom ;) 

On Kindergarten

Dear One,
      So. You started Kindergarten today. Daddy and I have been building up this day for months now, in anticipation of how hard change is for you sometimes. Hoping beyond hope to make it as easy a transition as possible for you, our sweet boy. It would seem that some of that effort should have been directed at ourselves. At me, in particular. Thankfully, you were too excited by all that was happening around us this morning to notice how my smile trembled from time to time. Not a tear dropped until you were safely in your seat and I was safely out of sight. Someday you'll appreciate what a feat that was for me.
       I am so proud of you Dear One. I am overcome by the boy you are, and looking forward to meeting the boy you are about to become. Here's hoping you remember at least some of the lessons and truths I've tried to pass on over your "just you and me" years. Such as:
1) Hold God's hand
2) Be Kind, to yourself and others
3) Give the benefit of the doubt
4) Listen
5) Respect
6) Appreciate
and most importantly...

7) You are a joy to me. No matter what you ever do. Or don't do. Just because you ARE. Just because you're you.
You are a joy to me.
I delight in you.
You are precious to me.
I love you.

Forever yours,
     Mom

On Pie

Dear One,
     I'm racing to write this memory down, it's only a couple days old and already one of my favorite and most repeated stories. I was kinda joking when I asked if you wanted to be in the 4th of July Pie Eating contest this year, but I was thrilled to see you thrilled with the idea. I knew it would be flat out hysterical, but had no idea it would be heart-rending as well. 

     Lining up with the other kids, I was surprised to see you were the only 3 year old amongst several 8 and 9 year olds all ready to devour themselves some pie. I thought you might be intimidated and back down. That was silly. You're.... you. 
     Cow Bell rings and face in you go. Licking your way to the aluminum beneath all that chocolate cream.  

Shouts and Cheers fly from my mouth and erupt behind me too as all the parents and spectators urge each of you on to more sugar and faster. This is a new stance for us to take and we delight in it. Soon though, it is over. You do not realize this. In fact, you've just begun to get serious about this pie.

 Turns out it was a tie between two older and bigger boys and, as there is only one trophy, a tie-breaker round is set up. You do not realize this either. You are determined.

The tie is ended, winner awarded, and you continue in blissful ignorance and dogged determination to be the fastest pie eater the world has ever known.

Until finally I am able to wrangle enough of your attention back and tell you that the race is over. At which point, you look up with a face frosted by chocolate and painted with glee to ask...

"Am I the winner?!" 






And I am slain. 
Wrestling between the truth and a lie I land on the truth,
"No, honey, you didn't win." 
--but completely cave as the heartbreak hits you and the tears well, offering up a softer truth on top --
"But you were definitely the fastest 3 year old today!"
Uncertain blue eyes study me. 
Deciding.
Smile returns, all the way up to your dented cheek.
"Yep! I'm the winner!"


Wrong again. 

I am. 


                                                                                         Love,
                                                                                              mom









 

On Wealth

Dear One,
      I've never wished I was fluent in another language more than I did when I met you. What wouldn't I give to know your story?! The lines on your face, that magically smooth rather than deepen when you smile, tell me that your tale would be well worth the hearing. And your smile. I wish I'd been able to capture it on film. It could heal the world. 
    Just before crossing your path, my senses were being inundated with sounds, smells, scents, and textures all brand new to me. Which is why I love to travel, of course, but is also just... a lot... some moments. This is a beautiful island you call home, no question, I've talked with so many people about its splendor. Beaches and fruit laden trees and softly lapping waves...but it nags at me to leave the description there.  It has its scars. (Don't we all?), but  these wounds were new to me, new at least in the way things can be when you know them but don't know them. Knowledge of this strain doesn't come until the textbook is removed and the newscast a memory and the information comes at you first hand, skin on skin, smell on smell, sight on sight.  

     My eyes were stinging from the flood of sunscreen pouring into them as I sweat off my third or fourth SPF application of the day. Everything sticking. My shirt to my chest, my hair to my neck, my thighs to each other ( ugh.) I've never known such hot. I've never been in air so thick you could almost grab enough of it to wring out like a towel. And a rotten fruit smell that doesn't permeate the air by any means but can stagger you with potency from one step to the next before disappearing again, replaced by the burnt-tropical scent of my sunscreen reaching boiling point. Passing homes that would barely pass as sheds here, but with lace curtains hanging in the squares cut out of the aluminum, making windows, begging a breeze. 

    And trash. Nearly everywhere. It pained me to buy the cold soda that was swishing around in my bag on this walk because I knew where it would end up when I was done. The choice being here or on the ground, as best I could tell.

 Then, at about this point, I heard the sounds of children getting out of school. That sound is fairly universal. Skipping and laughing and racing and tagging. Ducking laundry and dodging chickens. Play. Freedom. Joy.

Young girls talked a handsome boy into climbing a tree to get them fresh coconut water.

     Two big grins chased me down with shouts of "Take my picture! Take my picture!"

 And as they ran off, after approving their photo first, my ear latched onto the sound of a young boy laughing, a sound my heart is particularly attune to. Following the path around the bend, you came into sight. Sitting, relaxing with your grandson, the laughing boy, and beaming at him a smile that not just took my breath away, but actually made me forget that I was melting down like a candle just moments before. The ease of your conversation, and the joy he clearly felt just being next to you... it was a richness to rival any on the Forbes list. So taken by the scene, I asked if I could take your picture, (thankfully I knew that much in your language!), and you turned that smile on me with a kind, "si". The photo-taking brought out a more serious look on your face, but the essence of you still comes through I think.

    With a "gracias" and smile of my own we parted, you continuing your story to a sweet faced boy and me listening to his responding laughter catch the coconut breeze and drift down behind me through a lace-curtained cutout, wondering just what it is I now... 
know.

Most Gratefully,

me

On Vacation

Dear Ones,
     
       My goodness do we miss you boys! But we are having so many wonderful adventures and can't wait to tell you all about them when we get back. I'm writing to you from what seems to be a converted chicken coop on the farm, now serving as an internet station. Fairly typical of things on this island I have to say!

We've been snorkeling every day and seen lots of colored fish (no Nemo yet, but we'll keep looking), a stingray, some orange starfish that are as big as daddy's head and even an octupus who was curled up inside the biggest conch shell we've ever seen! Tomorrow Bing is going to take us in the boat out to the reef where we can seen bigger fish and even some sharks! We may go fishing while we're out there and if we catch anything Paola will cook it for us for dinner, isn't that cool?!

We have to walk quite a ways to get to the village for supplies, and then carry them all back-  quite a workout! But there are tons of neat things to see on the way,( as much as I can see anyway from having the sweat pouring down my face and into my eyes - it's HOT here!), we've seen lots of little black lizards, chickens, goats, a cow and an enormous iguana that really took daddy by surprise on our walk. He had black and white stripes and a red tinted comb down his back- very grand looking but we decided not to get too close.

We have a little casita all to ourselves which is nice, although the rooster wakes us up very early every morning since the sun rises around 4:30am here. Last night we were trying to learn how to play Yahtzee and I had a bit of a scare from two Very Big Spiders. Daddy killed them for me because, as you know, he is very brave and bold- just like you two.

Not sure when I'll have the computer to use again, but we'll check in as soon as we can! Mommy and Daddy LOVE LOVE LOVE you both so much!

Love,

me

On Foam

Dear One,


  No, I'm not mad. I think this is an excellent chance to discuss a safety issue I hadn't thought to mention before. Sticking a green foam shark up your nose so far that it can't be seen - is not safe. I'm sure at this point you agree, yes? I'm very sorry you had to spend the night with it up your nose, but since we couldn't see it, I wasn't convinced it was still in there. I'm also sorry for laughing when your dad looked up there with a flashlight and saw the neon green tail was in fact working its way down. Thanks to his steady hands with the tweezers, that shark is no longer swimming up your nasal cavity. Let's not do that again, okay?


Love,
Me

On Growth Spurts

Dear One,


     Ah, my littlest boy, you should know that it is not (only) the peace and quiet of naptime that makes me look so forward to that after-lunch part of each day. It is also the very act of tucking you in and how tickled I am with our daily going-to-bed conversation. Adamantly insisting on sleeping in only your Superhero underpants, you always proceed to stop where you are in the room and specifically point to each limb on your body individually saying, "Mom, I don't want my socks - my socks, my pants- my pants, my shirt-my shirt, I just want my undies."  I smile and do your bidding (not that you expect any less of me) and delight in your youngness. You seem to really believe that if you don't point it out, I will leave you with one pant leg off and the other still on. 
     Today though, as I turned back your covers you looked up and said, "Mom, I don't want my socks, my pants, or my shirt. Can you please help me take them off?" I smiled and did your bidding again (habit at this point), but with a slightly sunken heart. I know that these little milestones of personal awareness and growth spurts of understanding are vital to your health and vitality and development. They all add up over time and will make you into a grown man someday ....wow, thinking that, it's...anyway...  the passing of each youthful perspective though is hard on your mother sometimes. I cherish each step you and your brother take more than you can yet know.
     So, when you are that grown boy, a LONG time from now, and are sitting in your own living room reading through these letters, I trust you will remember that I love
 your toes- your toes, 
your leg -your leg, 
your arm-your arm, 
your hand- your hand
your chest
your neck,
your head,
your smile, your smile, your smile, your smile, your smile, your smile,
your
you.


All along the way,
me

On A Girl's Weekend

Welcome Home Sweetheart!! Can’t wait to see you on  Sunday!!

Here are a few things to help with your boys weekend (hoping this is helpful and not bossy!) :

1)  All their cruisers clothes are folded and ready to go on the bench by the garage door. Their mittens are in the lockers at the Club, but everything else is here.

2)  You’ll need to pack both boys a lunch, thier lunch boxes are laid out on the kitchen counter.

3)  Luke’s babysitter  will meet you guys at the Trailhead at 12:30 and stay there with Luke until 3:30 so that you’ll have time to go and get Vaughn without bringing Luke with you. You’ll need to pick Luke up from mini-cruisers, give him his lunch box and take him to the Trailhead to meet her.

4)  I have frozen pizzas and some P.F. Chang’s stir-frys in the freezer for some toss-in-the-oven type easy dinners.

5)  Naps have been very hit or miss. If they don’t take one,  then it’s all I can do to keep Luke up until 8, but try otherwise he's up and at'em by 5am .

6)   They really enjoy their outside time, usually from 3 to 4 or 5 – but you have to make Luke do it. Once he’s out, he’s great, but he’ll tell (scream) you he doesn’t want to go at first. Ignore him.

7)  If the weather’s really bad and you can’t get outside, I just restocked our arts and crafts supplies for you to bring out. They are in the drawer of the dresser that’s in the toy room. Don’t let the boys see you get them out though, they don’t know that’s were I keep that stuff and I don’t want them breaking into it when I’m not watching.

8)  It’s a weekend so feel free to use as many shows as needed. ;)

9)   Hopefully this helps get you through until  I get home   on Sunday!

Love!

the potentially over-prepared and hyper-controlling one

;) 

On Marriage

 Dear One,
   I'm writing to you today because I've been watching some of the people we know dissolve their marriage, and the chaos of hurts and pains and accusations that are surrounding that whole situation has brought the concept of Marriage to the forefront of my mind lately. And when I think about marriage, it's obviously all about you. 
   We don't have the perfect marriage, got off to a rocky start and truly never had that fairy tale story I'd imagined as a young girl. I confess I've spent too much of our last 10 years thinking on what we don't, or haven't, had. What a waste that has been! What a disaster of focus! 


I've come across a few quotes lately that helped in aligning my mind onto the track of truth, one of my favorites is this: 
     "Nearly all marriages, even happy ones, are mistakes: in the sense that almost certainly (in a more perfect world, or even with a little more care in this very imperfect one) both partners might be found more suitable mates. But the real soul-mate is the one you are actually married to."
                                        --J. R. R. Tolkien


True, yes? There is a lot of True Love in a marriage, and one of the secrets is that there are many moments throughout the course of one where True Love is demonstrated by staying not because you feel it, but because you said you would.  It proves your word's worth, to see a vow through makes you trustworthy, which is vital because one of the things I can now say I know about marriage- it is the most naked, vulnerable, and exposed spot in the world to be. To be utterly bare before someone, and know they are trustworthy with your "you-ness", is everything. 
      Something else I've learned: 


"Success in marriage does not come merely through finding the right mate, but through being the right mate."  ~Barnett R. Brickner


     Which goes hand in hand with this:


 "To find someone who will love you for no reason, and to shower that person with reasons, that is the ultimate happiness."  -- Robert Brault




So, there you have one of my biggest lessons and it's so old and so overdone there must be hundreds of tales and thousands of songs proclaiming it... you see, "it takes two".  We all desire to be loved, no- to be HUGELY loved, but we also need to hold the responsibility of being someone lovable. 


    You've been gone all week, soaring heights and skiing steeps I'm not sure I'll ever have the stomach to take on myself. But I can hear the smile in your voice when you're done and I never want to hang up and lose the sound of your voice or the joy you're clearly feeling --  and that's really saying something, since you know my phone conversation skills aren't among my best qualities. 
    When you're not here, I sleep on your side of the bed, and in your shirts, anything to feel you close. I miss you. I start listening for the door to open at the end of the day in the hope you might be back sooner than you said, I think of you thousands of times a day and smile when your face crosses my mind. 


    We don't have the perfect marriage. We have something so much better, we have a 
Real One. 


      We have a funny, messy, complicated, solid, hopeful, hard-working, passionate, trying, courageous, brilliant, priceless, always-figuring-it-out-as-we-go-and-keep-getting-up-no-matter-what marriage. I know I've been showered for more than a decade now with reasons to love you... 


...may you become equally drenched  my Dear One, 


me

On Offense

Dear One,

I don't know why we sometimes make each other so uncomfortable. It doesn't seem the norm in other relationships like ours, though I don't think any family has a "norm" so that's probably not the right comparison to use. Our immediate line of women though do seem to have a norm of  ,um, tension in rather high levels is the best way I can describe it- at least for all the generations I've personally witnessed. Family cycles are so hard to break out of, and ours certainly isn't the worst of positions to be in when you consider the ruts of anger and abuse others must face. Nevertheless, I don't think times like what we just had is what either of us hope and dream for when we're together.

How to stop hurting then?

I think it comes down to how easily we each take offense. I'm learning that offense is more of a choice than a given, and I'm so sorry for how often I choose it. I'd love for us to embrace each other's differences better. I can't be a perfect carbon of you, and I don't think you'd want me to be even though it would make things like decorating a house or putting away laundry or making dinner or any host of other little shared activities much less controversial. Writing it out like that, it does seem silly that we get so tied up in those things, doesn't it?

I also want to listen better. I get so frustrated by feeling continually unheard, and yet now that I'm taking a breath long enough to think about it, I'm not sure I'm hearing you as well as you deserve either. In fact, I know I'm not.

I think you are wise, joyful, fun, creative, intelligent, loving, and generous.

I think those things WAY more often than I think anything else.

I also think I'm lucky to have you in my life. And I will do everything I can to do our life better.
Because you matter. To me. You matter.

Love,
Me

On Treading Water

 Dear Ones,


I haven't written you, or anyone, for months now and I'm sorry about that. This past summer was a study in stress and how poorly I handle it in excessive amounts. I hate to think any of my angst rubbed off on you two - and I ask your forgiveness for the moments it did. I literally stressed myself sick developing everything from chronic back pain to shingles, which took me out of Love Life mode to just-keep-my-head-above-water mode.  So much less than you deserve from me. I don't want to overly beat myself up, everyone has times where they're treading water like no tomorrow, and I know I can't give you The Perfect Childhood... well, okay, at least in theory I know that... ;) 


On this September afternoon however, you're both asleep in your rooms, I'm watching golden aspens wave at me through an open window, your Dad just called to say he loved me, and I am overrun by the desire to get down in this blog the beautiful things from these past few months lest they be lost in the clutter of everything else. No surprise- each memory involves the two of you...


gap-toothed smiles, lion roars, mastering your pedal bikes, hikes in the trees, rocks thrown in the river, chuckle-box checks, give me 5 - to the side..., Ka-Chow! Hip- Pow Yeah!. "Oh, yeah, that's a great idea", "Last day", "Mom, I love you", mornings at the park, train song, dance parties, blue bink stink, Peter Pan, "Oh Mom, I know what the problem is", "Daddy's  Home!", roasted marshmellows, Buzz Lightyear, reading books in the hammock, cuddles in the hammock, push'm play, "I did it!", dry undies, dry beds, chuga-chugs, "I can make the number V", supercalifragilisticexpealidocious, "I just love you my baby brother", cackles of laughter, hiccups from cackles of laughter, "They look exactly like their father!", bubble baths, "scared you", "I'm gonna push some dirt!", hold you higher, laying in the sun in front of the house, puddle boots, "I'll can do it by myself, I'll meet you at home", holding your cheeks together to grab your biggest smile, "Oh Sure", "I'd be happy to", blonde curls, buzz cut, big eyes, shoulder running, sandy kisses, shy smiles, bobcats, running through the sprinkler, 


Ah, now you're awake and need to sit on my lap while we discuss what to do with the afternoon so this list will have to be continued later. And it will. It will continue and continue and continue because we've now made it past everything that we needed to to keep swimming. It's time to dry off on the shore and let the sun warm our skin while we laugh at the shapes in the clouds. 


Maybe that's what we'll do this afternoon.


All My Love,


Mom

On Memory

Dear One,

   Sitting down with my family for dinner the other night I was suddenly struck by a memory of an earlier family dinner from my childhood. I had asked you to get me something to drink and you looked at me, without anger but definitely level in the eyes, and told me to, "Get Up and Get it Myself." (gasp!) 
     Odd the moments that stick with us.
     This one did because I remember having a physical reaction to it. A feeling akin to the shock of a rogue, cold, ocean wave catching you completely unaware and knocking the wind out of you. In my limited child memory you'd always gotten whatever I asked for in the past. "You are my MOM for goodness sake!", my 6 or 7 year old self thought, "You are SUPPOSED to get me what I need!" I got up, sullenly I'm sure, and got myself a glass of water, brought it back to my spot on the table and, head down, tried to sneak a look up at you through my eyelashes. Far from the repentance I was hoping for, you were doing that small smile that is so uniquely yours and that as a mother myself I can now recognize as equal parts hope, exasperation, and trying to choke back a laugh. And that is where that memory ends.
Well, maybe not ENDS exactly... because I still carry it, and the lessons it contained. 


Lesson 1: You are my mother not my servant. 
Lesson 2: Do not let laziness get in the way of your own capability. 

Lesson 3: Frustration and Love can happen at the same time, but the Love is always 
              bigger. 
Lesson 4: You really do have eyes in the back of your head.
                     wait--- that's a different memory
Lesson 4:  Ignore any of these lessons and spend dinner thirsty. 


      A random memory to share and elaborate on I know, but it's such a clear example of the through-line of you being my mother that I had to let you in on what a gift it was- and all the others like it! I don't know that I'm doing this small moment justice here, it's harder to verbalize than I thought, but essentially, I am better for being told to get my own drink. My children will be too, once the initial shock passes that is. In all the little moments like this, you not only taught me to care for myself, you also taught me to respect you. Which grew into respect for myself and others we share life with. It's been a building block for a healthy and happy life.
     That old cliche about giving a man a fish or teaching him to fish is so ridiculously over-used that I won't give it more than a passing glance here. Besides, it's incomplete as you did much more than teach me to fish. You taught me to get my own glass of water. 
 And that has mattered every day since. 


Happy Mother's Day Mom.  Thank you. 


Love,
Me

On Motherhood

Dear One,

It's wonderful to hear from you and I can so totally totally totally understand the rollercoaster you are on right now. I wish I was there and could just hold you for a moment. Please imagine the biggest hug you've ever had and accept that from me today. :)  
I BALLED MY EYES OUT HYSTERICALLY WEEPING when 1) we drove away from the hospital and all of the people who were checking on my baby every couple of hours and telling me he was okay, and 2) when my mom left and I stood in that quiet apartment with a painful abdomen and an unbelievably needy infant. I understand completely and am going to tell you what I wish I'd know then. IT REALLY IS GOING TO BE OKAY. :) It's even going to be fun, magical, and brilliant beyond imagining. You are stronger than you know, but better than that- so is he! :) Nothing falls apart when he cries and you can take him anywhere you want to go. He'll adjust swimmingly and you'll get more and more comfortable with the load the more you incorporate living your life into caring for your baby.  
And that's the other thing, it IS a LOAD to be a Mother. It is exhausting, frustrating, frightening, overwhelming and some days you'll even have thoughts that maybe you're not cut out for this and made a huge huge mistake. THAT IS REALLY OKAY TOO. :) It does not mean you are a bad mother, it does not mean you can't do this, it does not mean any mistake was made. It just means that this is an all-consuming job, a vitally important job, and that you really truly get that. If you weren't stressed out every now and then (or every few minutes...) then I'd be worried. ;)  
Another thought to tuck away right now is that this season is just that, a season of time. There are incredibly precious moments in these first few months and years that you will look back on and know were some of the most valuable pieces of your life. Priceless, special and miraculous moments. There is also a lot of stress and endless servant tasks! Those parts pass though-babies grow to kids and eventually people who do, in fact, care for themselves, I promise. :) So enjoy carrying, and caring, and kissing, and breathing in that priceless newborn smell that is unique to your little man. Relax. Cut yourself LOTS of slack. Laugh at yourself and breathe. Of all the mommy's in the world he picked you out in particular - which tells me right away that your son has exceptional taste and you're in good hands. :)  


Happy Early Mother's Day! You are going to be brilliant at this!  


Most days. ;)  


Love you,
Me

On April

Dear One,


If there must be named a single point; a block of time out from which my entire year spins around, April- you are it. January has is resolutions, June through August their warm breezes, December of course carries Christmas, but none of that compares to the enormous weight you carry for me, April. Year after Year. 


For starters, I love that you begin with a holiday dedicated to fools, or is it meant to be a day for creating fools around you? Either way. Brilliant. On a more serious holiday note... Easter. Except for very very rare occasions, Easter always falls during the month of April. Easter is my favorite holiday and the cornerstone for my increasingly important faith. I. Love. Easter. Less important on the grand scale of things -but certainly worth noting, my birthday is in April. The day when I take stock, appreciate being alive, vow to grow older - better than I have so far, and hopefully recognize the love others have for me. Love that helps build me up for round (soon to be) 34. These highs forever linked to the incomparable low of the anniversary of Matt's death each April as well. Such powerful LIFE celebrations sandwiching such a life that was lost. Each felt deeper because of the knowledge gained from the others. 


Though not credited to a specific day, April is when I turn my thoughts toward Spring. Regardless of it being the snowiest month here in the Elk Mountains, it is the first noticeable shift in the weather. A slight warming of the ground that turns all this snow to slush, and a fierceness in the wind that dares you to turn your back on it. April is when things change in the year. Not January -which is remarkably similar to its bookend months- April is the beginning for me. 


30 days now to seek and sense and grasp, and know those ever-so-slight shifts that steer the whole year.


Love,
Me

On Song

Dear Ones,

I love to sing, always have. Singing in the shower, with Poppy, in the car, or on stage with a full orchestra -- singing has been one of the greatest joys of my life. The peak song experiences for me though are paled in comparison to what is only described as beyond joy that I hear coming from your little mouths when you think I'm not listening. You are both wonderful little singers, don't ever let anyone tell you different. I hope you always get the happiness from it that you so exuberantly let out right now. No qualms, no fears, no worries over pitch or lyrics or audience ... just ALL OUT SINGING. It's like you are taking your truest smile and flinging it up to Heaven. It is the absolute best sound in the world to your mama's ears.

Little Bunny FooFoo, Shoo Fly, Hush Little Baby, PollyWolly Doodle All Day, Doe a Deer, Don't Stop Believin', Dancing Queen, and of course the Thomas the Tank Engine theme song... these make up the playlist of my heart. But only when you sing them.

I love you so much!

me

On Body

Dear One,

You are so hard on yourself, and so sad so often. Now that you've had your cry, focus. Your legs work. As do your heart, lungs, teeth, arms and ankles. Your husband says he's a fan of your butt. So, you know, that's something.

This new exercise is good for you. And it's good that you can't do it all yet and that you're so tired and sore- it means it's working now and has room for you to grow and keep the method working in the future!

You will see change. It's only been a month. For the life-change you want you need to realize this could easily take all year. You may not feel comfortable in a bathing suit on your 34th birthday, as per the original goal. BUT you WILL feel good in one for birthdays 35- 82. At 83... well, we'll just cross that bridge when we come to it, shall we? ;)

You will get yourself up at 5am tomorrow and keep going. Do Not Give Up.

Now go play with your sons. They think you're beautiful. It is possible they are more right about you than you are.

Love,

me

On Stages

Dear One,

When I asked you to "Sit still and be quiet" while I was in a meeting this morning and you responded with "Not Again???!!" it occurred to me that we have a gap in our communication somewhere. You see, the last time I said, "Sit still and be quiet" wasn't actually the last time this will be asked of you. In fact, since you are now 2 1/2 years old, it's entirely possible that this request will be made thousands of times yet over the course of your life. Particularly since you seem to possess truly astounding levels of energy and spunk for someone so little.

Hopefully this clears up any miscommunication we've been having and my next request for you to calm down won't come as such a shock.

Much love,

me :)

On Listening

Dear One,

When my children are upset, self-inflicted or otherwise, I usually tilt their face up to me and say, "Tell me when you can hear me." I know I can fix the problem, but not until the self-centered hysterics die down. After a few hiccups and back-handed wiping of tears they'll eventually nod and say they can. At least that's how it works when it runs smoothly.

When it doesn't run smoothly, their mad and I've been scared into a fury, I don't tilt their face towards me. I grab hold of their chins between my pointer finger and thumb in such a way that I could probably move their entire bodies with just this grip. And say in my deepest vocal register, "Tell. Me. When. You. Can. Hear. Me."

Which they usually respond to with a "I Can't Hear You Yet!" yell that echos off Red Lady. Even in those cases though, eventually their ears open and the muscles surrounding my voice box relax enough to let oxygen get back through and we move ahead. Together.

I don't know which tone of voice you're using with me right now Father. But I can't hear you yet. I want to. I wish the disconnect wasn't there. I believe that eventually my ears will open and your perfect voice, saying just the right words, will come through. I believe that.

But I can't hear you yet.

Amen.