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.