Archive for the ‘letters’ Tag
January 25 2010
Dear Abby,
At 18 months, Abby, you are earning the name Little Shit outright. You have taken to hitting and biting as well as pinching, usually on Buzz, although the cat gets beat up, too. I can’t help but think this is a defense mechanism, and while probably needed, there are less hurtful options we need to explore. You are also loud enough to wake up astronauts orbiting in space, although this isn’t new.
Right after lunch, so her face is still messy.
As well as my little helper, you have also become a tattletale. You are exuberant and determined and I dare anyone try to take away whatever little piece has made it’s way into your shockingly strong grip. You test your boundaries daily, finding humor in my frustration. Stubborn and mischievous, I’m scared of what would happen if I took my eyes off of you for more than a minute. In other words, you are a typical, normal kid.
And yes, that is a summer dress over her pajamas.
But then, you stick your face right in front of mine for a kiss. “I love you”, you say, in jumbled beginner-speak. This makes everything else worthwhile.
You reach out to wrap your little hand around my finger as we walk, then you let go to run. Walking is for babies, apparently, and you, my dear girl, are no longer a baby. Though try as you might, you still have a bit of trouble keeping up. Then again, so do I.
What can I say? The girl has style.
I’m not gonna lie, these past 18 months haven’t been all sunshine and daisies. But one thing is certain: you are an amazing little girl and I am so proud and grateful to be your mom.
With all the love in my heart,
Me
November 10 2009
Dear Jedi,
While today is your birthday, it will probably seem like just another day to you. We’re not celebrating until this weekend, so that your uncle and grandparents can be here to blow out candles with you. To me, though, today is a very special day.
I can’t believe you’re 6 years old.
This past year, you’ve embraced video games with full force. You like zombies and army men and guns, but you still like Elmo and Sesame Street, too. People fascinate you; their faces, mannerisms and personalities, their wardrobe choices. You are one question after another, some I have no idea how to answer, and never seem full. You also give the best hugs of anyone I’ve ever known. While you’re still friends with a rubber duckie, you say that I’m your best friend. You’re my best friend, too.
You also dislike getting your picture taken. And when you do briefly oblige your mother, you usually give your “cheese” face.
Save for the few times you’ve given Buzz a bloody nose, you are a huge help and a great big brother. Just this morning, I found you and Abby playing in your room. I heard you laughing from behind the closed door and when I peeked my head in, you each looked back at me with a dubious sort of joy. Turns out, you were putting on a puppet show for her. This is the kind of thing that I’ve dreamt about. Hearing the 3 of you playing, giggling, in your own little corner of the world, together. Sometimes, you’ll put your arm around Buzz when he’s sitting next to you. The moment goes by all too quick, but it’s a glimpse. Our family. My love.
You have grown into a wonderful kid. My big guy. But you will always be my baby. I love you, Jedi. More than I could ever possibly say. Happy Birthday.
July 24 2009
Dear Abby,
Exactly one year ago, we were just beginning to know each other after the quickest midnight labor imaginable. I had asked for pain medication, but there wasn’t even time to have it administered. You were just as anxious to join us as we were to meet you, apparently. For most of that first day, you slept soundly in your hospital bassinet while I, at a point beyond exhaustion, couldn’t keep my eyes closed. I kept looking at you, watching you breathe, waiting for you to stir.
Some things never change. You have yet to let me get a good night’s sleep, although now it’s for different reasons. Can we promise to work on that in the next few months, maybe? Mommy’s tired.
In all honesty, a year later and I still can’t take my eyes off of you.
There is so much I want to share about you, but it would never be enough. You are my pretty girl. My silly girl. My very vocal little girl. You are strong and opinionated. You and Buzz are partners in crime, following in one another’s mischievous footsteps. You wrinkle your nose when you’re happy. You give wet, sloppy kisses when asked. The little hair you have is starting to curl at the end. You’re already saying a few words. You are the constant center of attention. You have us wrapped around your chubby little finger.
You are hilarious. It is impossible to explain just how funny you are. You will do anything for a laugh; from walk around with a card stuck to your foot, to funny faces, to peek-a-boos around corners, to raspberries on my belly, to chases down the hallway. Your laughter is contagious. Your joy is infectious. Whenever I have a bad moment, all I need to do is see you smile and the day is instantly brighter. You have no idea how grateful I am for that. For you.
I did not teach you how to point like that, despite what your grandmother would lead you to believe. That is 100% you.
Every day, I am amazed and blessed and so very proud to be your mother. I love you, Abby. Happy 1st Birthday.
I'm Crystal. A 30-something mom to 3 young kids living in the Midwest USA. When I'm not chasing my children, I'm a freelance writer and web designer. I like to tell stories from our days and share what we enjoy...
