Sunday, October 17, 2010

Moments

Dear Daughter,
You'll have many memorable firsts in your life.
Your first word, first step, first day of school, first kiss, etc.
Well, how about the firsts that rarely get spoken about.
The first time you peed on me. The first time you spit up on me, and subsquently the first time you threw up what went down as milk and came back as cottage cheese on me. The first and thankfully only time you drooled in my mouth. Not quite Hallmark moments are they?
No. Not at all.
But these are the moments that make life worth living. Most of your day is spent doing mundane, repetitive actions that will tally up into ungodly hours spent doing whatever when all is said and done.
It's the little oddball things that make memories. Sure, that one morning when you threw your body across me; greeting me with a huge smile, a loving "Mamaaaa" and a 17 second pee down my neck, was not exactly my idea of a hearty hello. It was however, memorable. Gross but memorable.
And you little lady are an oddball.You constantly introduce the baby in the mirror to me. You sing strange songs and fall down on purpose. In other words, you are the single most fantastic person I have ever met. And I will cherish every moment we have together.

Your Ever-loving mother

Friday, October 15, 2010

Under the Sea

When I found out I was pregnant with you, I was ecstatic. Petrified, but ecstatic. We waited so long for you. I worked so hard for you. And now, here you were. A little line on a stick telling me everything was going to change forever.
I immediately felt a need to protect you. Fiercer and stronger than anything I've ever felt before. I also felt acute awareness that I would never be able to fully protect you forever. This made me very sad. It was a fleeting thought I would not feel for another 8 months.
I watched you grow and move and form. I KNEW, KNEW, KNEW you were a girl from the moment I knew of your existence. I begrudgingly waited the 5 loooooong months for the sonogram confirmation. (One thing you will learn is I do not do surprises. I have all intention of them but then I just can't control myself. I tell your father everything beforehand. I won't do that to you, I promise!) When they told me you were in fact a girl it was more of an "I told you so" moment for me than anything else.
As the summer wound down to fall, I started getting excited to meet you soon! I also dreaded the fact that you were not coming home to your own room, in your own house or anything remotely "normal." More than dreaded this, it broke my heart. It still does.
I promise you your own room in your own home with a fireplace and a yard and a driveway that you can squeal with delight as you hear one of us pull up to come home to you. It's going to be amazing. You will run down the stairs Christmas morning and do all the things I always wanted. (relax Mom and Dad. I'm not mad.) This will be your reality soon. We promise you that.
Anyways...
So, when you were born that December morning, I remember thinking "There is another person in this room, who 1 second ago was not!" They showed you to me and then wisked you away before I really had a chance to see you. Daddy was pretty stoked about you from the beginning. He got to hold you first. As it should be :)
Fast Forward.
The first time I held you, I looked in your eyes and said "So you're what all the fuss was about huh?" And you just looked at me and looked and looked. It was awesome.
The reason for all the sentiment is this:
I have such big plans for you. And us. The very very first once just occured in a 2 minute stop time frame that will stay in my mind and my heart forever.
We just watched Ariel sing "Part of your World" for the first time. And you put your head against mine and held me to you. I will remember what you were wearing, the feel of your hair in my face, your little hands around my neck as I watched The Little Mermaid with my daughter.
The minute you touched me my heart stopped. Just like the first time you smiled at me, kissed me and said Mama. It's another first in a long line of them to come.
I love you my girl. My Little Mermaid.
Sincerely,
Your FOREVER-loving Mother

Inenvitables

You will randomly choke on your own spit.
You will laugh so hard you'll pee a little.
Your reflection in a window will make you think someone is following you causing you to casually walk faster, there by making you now think you are being chased.
People you love will die.
You'll move away and leave everything you know.
You'll make new friends and if you're lucky stay in contact with your old ones.
You'll probably always be short. I'm sorry.
You will have good hair days and bad hair days. (Here's to no "Cut Your Own Hair" days!)
You will have your heart broken.
You will break someone's heart.
We (Daddy and I) will disappoint you.
You will disappoint us.
You will drink too much and throw up. (See VERY BAD hair days)
You will one day not want to kiss us in public.
We will always try to kiss you in public.
I will always be proud of you for making the right decision, even if it's the unpopular one.
You're gonna need braces. I'm REALLY sorry. (Glasses too.)
I could go on and on forever but I'll leave you with this last one:
You will never fully understand how much you were wanted, how much was sacrificed for you, how intensely so many people love you, and how lucky you are because of it.
Sincerely,
Your Ever-loving Mother

People

Dear Daughter,
People in your life will ultimately break down into 4 distinct categories.
To help you better understand this, I offer you this scenario:
You walk into a restaurant. You pass a table of four being seated at booth.
The first person's place is already set. They are neither impressed or surprised by this as they are the people who have everything handed to them and expect it to be there.
Person Two's place setting is being removed from her as soon as she sits down. She is neither sad or angry about it as this is the person who is blissfully complacent. They will wait for a new setting or no setting at all. Either way, they are just grateful to be in the warmth of the diner with company.
Person Three is the one who will go behind the counter and get her own plate, thank you very much.
The last person. This person will have no place setting in front of her. They do not expect it to be there, are deep down comforted by the fact it is not there but yet are borderline bipolar depressed it is not appearing anytime soon. This person unlike however, Person Two will wallow . They will never entertain the notion of actually doing something about it, like saying something to the passing waitress or taking Person Three's lead. They are the Anti-Person One.
And you Dear Daughter, will fall somewhere in between all of these diner patrons. There are various shades of grey in there, and that is where the masses fall.
My wish for you is this:
May your belief in yourself be like that of Person One. May you be able to accept the windfalls, trials, tribulations and general sucky moments with the graceful indifference of Person Two. Do not be a martyr. There is no need for one in this family. You have no sainthood coming to you. The world owes you nothing. You are just a person who was brought to this place by two people who loved you long before we met you. If your life doesn't go quite the way you planned, well then by all means be like Person Three. Get off your ass and make it better!
Sincerely,
Your Ever-loving Mother