Thursday, November 10, 2011

A letter to my baby. I mean, my toddler.

I'm not going to apologize for not posting. It's the same old shiz really, busy with work, busy with baby, busy with life plus a dash of buying a new house and well, you get it. Add to that the fact that we just celebrated the bambina's first b-day and I hope you will pardon my negligence. I'd tell you I'd get better but well, I don't want to lie to you my pets. So what's on the docket today? Well, a letter to the baby (ok little girl) who has rocked my world in the best possible way for the last 365 (ok 370) days.

To my darling Sadie:

It's hard to try to encapsulate what's transpired over the last year. Not because your growth & personality & accomplishments have been so vast (though the have, my little superstar), but because it's hard for me to remember what life was like before you were here. It's hard for me to remember what life was like before your bright brown eyes followed me everywhere I went. It's hard to remember a time before your giggle sprinkled joy throughout this great family of ours. It's hard to remember a time where your cry didn't send aches through my heart that I didn't know could cut so deep.

It's hard to remember ever being as scared as I was the day you were born. It's hard to remember how guilty & distraught I was when you fell off the bed (insert obligatory mom of the year nominations right here). It's hard to remember when bone crushing exhaustion could be swept away in an instant by your crooked little smile. It's hard to remember a moment that I was away from you that I wished I wasn't. And it's impossible for me to remember what in the world we were thinking years ago when your daddy and I thought we might not want babies. Speaking of your daddy, it's hard to imagine that I could ever love him more than in the moments where I caught him rocking you, kissing you, stroking you or just gazing at you while you slept. He did and still does do all of those things, though you fight him a little more than at the beginning.

It's hard to imagine a time when trips to the store were for tequila & beer, not milk & applesauce. It's hard to remember a day that started after 6:00 AM. It's hard to remember a day where I didn't think of my own mom & dad and give a silent unheard thank you to them for all they did for me, since I never fully understood it until you arrived. It's hard to recall a time where you were not the center of my whole universe. Without you in it I'd just spin right off my axis.

But there in lies the innate conundrum of parenting. While you are no doubt the center of our world, we can't let you know. Why? Because then you might wind up a mindless, entitled brat, otherwise known as the species "Homo-Kardashian-Tus". So while daddy and I secretly giggle when you yell at us for taking away your balloon/bottle of hairspray/insert any other random not baby safe object here, it's for your own good. When we tell you "No" when you hit, it's not because we're mean, it's our job. When we make you walk when you want to run, it's because we want to keep you safe for the fleeting period of time that we get to watch over you every day.

We also want you to know what you can't possible yet comprehend, which is that you are an insanely lucky little girl. In a time when so many people suffer, you flourish. In a time when so many families struggle, we prosper. And in a time when so many little ones go hungry or cold, you have never known a day without enough milk or blankets. And one day we will expect you to go out into the world with that knowledge and to pay it forward. Through your own heart. Through your own actions & works and family. And I know you will, because I've seen your sweet spirit emerge this year and I'm truly blown away.

You've already started to pull away from me and that's ok. You want to climb stairs and pet doggies and pull yourself up and out of my arms, which is normal. But every now and then you still come to me, reach for me and nuzzle your sweet little head into my neck as if to say, "Thank you mama".

And my darling Sadie, you are so very welcome. Being your mama the most important thing I will ever do. Keep rockin' this world baby.


Your mama, aka

1 comment:

  1. Crying. No really, this is AMAZING! And she really is the best (well til one day then mine will be, to me..crap you know what I mean!)