letters to my kids - 3rd edition

My boy,

We’re home together since you’ve been sick. I’m sorry you have felt bad this week, buddy. It’s tough to miss school and church and places we like to be with people we love to be with. But I like to sit here beside you – just you and me – comfy on the couch under our favorite blankets, watching Lord of the Rings. You always notice things I haven’t ever noticed (remember this morning when you found the stone trolls from The Hobbit while we were watching Fellowship of the Ring? I have never noticed them there, but you did). You talk me through what’s happening and ask really interesting questions. Sometimes when you talk, I sort of feel like I can see your brain working like a machine or growing like the strong roots of a tree. It’s amazing.

You know something I like about you? You have a heart for the epic. That word means big adventure, seeing life in a big way. You like to hear about, read about, watch, play, and live epic adventures. And because of you, my little big man, my heart for the epic grows bigger, too. Every day has adventure, doesn’t it, if we look for it.

But even in the adventure that is your story, some times there are going to be sick days or tired days or bored days. You might be too sleepy or your body may feel too weak. Some times you just might not want to go adventuring, you might not be in the mood. Yep, even for the most adventurous, there are just days like this. Today is one of those days and because of it we sort of have to watch or talk or dream about epic things a little more than we can go out and do them. Today, I’m glad to be beside you; to have a chance to be slow and still and quiet. We climb under warmest and favorite blankets, rest our bodies and minds and our epic hearts. 

I’m sorry you’ve been sick, my boy. Relax and get well. The days after this one will have plenty of epic things in them. Tomorrow we will adventure. Today we rest.

Yours,
Mama

letters to my kids - 2nd edition

My sweet girl,
Do you remember what we did today?

Let's make a list.

-We had a yummy breakfast, but then later Daddy made cheesy eggs just for you and him. Remember that he said he may be a hobbit because he loves to eat "second breakfast" so much? Maybe he's right!
-You took a long, extra bubbly bath in my big tub all to yourself. And did you even notice that when it was time for me to wash your hair you didn't fuss or cry? Nope, you just scooched on over, lifted your head back, and got your hair washed like a big kid. Thank you for that. It made the job so easy for me. And when you're still like that no soap gets in your eyes!
-I cut your bangs and trimmed all the nails on your toesies and fingers. You stayed so still for all of that. Wow! Then you laid out aaaalll of the nail polishes and picked out the color you wanted. Now you have silver fingers and toes.
-Daddy took us to each pizza for lunch. Delicious. You called it a "Daddy/Mommy/Ava date". I like that.
-Remember when we came home from lunch and you felt tired? Remember how you laid on the couch and watched "Wreck It Ralph" all snug under a blanket?
-In the afternoon we picked the big kids up from school just like every other day. It's always so nice when they come back home. It makes you and me both very happy, doesn't it?

I like to spend my days with you, sweet girl. When I look at you now I am so surprised at how grown up you are. I say to myself, "Oh, is THIS my little baby?! Well, she's not a baby at all anymore! She's so big and smart and hilarious!" But you will always, always really be my baby, even when you are as grown up as you can be.

I like to spend my days with you. Do you know sometimes I forget that? Yep, sometimes I don't pay attention the way I should. Maybe I look at my phone too much or I type on my computer more than I sit and talk or play with you. I forget sometimes to read you a book or to pull out the paint so we can paint a picture or to watch you dance and sing. I'm sorry I forget those things that make our days together even more great.

I like that we try to remember to say, "I'm sorry" when we do something wrong. It takes practice to remember that. I want to practice now: my sweet girl, I'm sorry I don't remember every day how much I like to spend my days with you and how special they are. Will you forgive me?

We feel lots of things every day, don't we? We feel happy and excited and bored and frustrated and funny and silly and quiet and serious. I'm thankful we can feel lots of things, even all in one day. And just like we can make a list of what we did today, I can make a list of the things I feel when I think about you:
-full of laughter because you are funny
-warm because you bring me hugs and snuggles all day
-excited because you love to tell stories and explore
-proud because you are kind to your brother and sister
-happy because you are my daughter

We did a lot of things today. I'm glad we will do a lot of things tomorrow. But whether we stay at home or go out, we are busy or we are quiet, I am glad that we will be together. And tomorrow we may even forget what we did today, but I'll always remember that I was with you.

I love you, my pretty baby. I always will.

Yours,
Mama

letters to my kids - 1st edition

My dearest first-born,

I was just doing a bit of counting, some figuring up.

Three days ago we watched together the last episode of Downton Abbey's third season; you shook your fist and yelled dramatically, "Noooooo!!!" at the television when you-know-who got killed off the show (which was probably what the entire western hemisphere wanted to do). Two days ago I found a note from you on my pillow, an "I'm sorry" for choosing to disobey me, with an "I'll always love you" added to the end probably to remind us both that offenses don't make or break our relationship. Yesterday you set up a spa and beauty shop in your room and treated your sister, your brother, and me to special treatments complete with twinkly music and nature soundscapes, smelly lotions, back scratches, and face massages. You even thought about inviting your dad to the spa, but then decided that would be just kind of eww (spoken in our best Jimmy Fallon voice). Today we noticed the sign at the school that said "No smoking in the car rider lane"; then you laughed that laugh of yours - the one where no sound comes out and you just turn into one big convulsion - when I said, "I should use that excuse with your dad: 'Hey A, you'll have to go get the kids from school today. They won't let me in the car rider lane because this outfit is SMOKIN'!'" (You are one of my worldwide favorites to make laugh.)

Our days are so full, aren't they? I mean, I know that within them there's also all of the times we get irritated with each other, the times that our household of five feels not just wild and crazy but too wild and too crazy. You don't listen sometimes and neither do I. I can't figure out what it is about picking up behind yourself you can't seem to grasp. I'm sure you can't figure out why I can't seem to remember to sign your Wednesday school folder until Friday. When you don't do the things I have reasonably asked you to do, sometimes I feel so frustrated and disrespected and even hurt. When I lecture you or have to put in boundaries and discipline, sometimes I see in your eyes and in your face that you feel frustrated or disrespected and even hurt. It can be hard to be a mama and a daughter, to be grown and to be growing.

But the way I figure - when I count up our life and times - you just make me so happy, fill me with such joy. My thoughts of you bubble over like a fizzy drink shaken up too hard. When I think about you, my girl, the least common denominator in those thoughts is the rough spots, our tougher days. When I think about you, my lovely, lovely young lady, the greatest common factor in those thoughts is deep gratitude that you are mine.

I could add up all that I love in you for days and days and never get to the end of counting. At least that's how I figure it.

I just wanted to tell you.

Yours,

Mama