daughter

It’s been a while….

Dear Daughter,

It’s been a busy month and I haven’t posted since you turned one, but that doesn’t mean that there haven’t been things I wanted to say.  Right now what’s on my mind is the next three-ish months.  You see, while you probably won’t remember, Daddy left for a training mission and will be gone till right before Christmas.  He’s done overnights, a week here and there, a couple weeks at Yakima, but this is the first extended separation that you have been through.

You are lucky though Baby Girl, you had most of your first 13 months with him, something that in Army life nowadays is basically unheard of. Part of that was due to his broken foot, part of that was due to our move, but he was here through most of the major milestones: Crawling, walking, climbing, sitting up on your own. The only thing he’ll likely miss is when you finally have your first identifiable word and start talking. But who knows, you may hold out for him to get home for that.

My heart breaks for you Baby Girl, it really does. I understand separations and while they suck and I miss your father, I get it.  I understand.  You however are too young to really understand what is going on.  Even if you do, you don’t have the ability to express your feelings outside of fussing or being gretzy. I’m not sure if this is a blessing or a curse – I hear what other kids say when they know that their father is leaving and it brings tears to my eyes.  So on one level I’m glad that you can’t break my heart with those innocent childhood comments, but I know it must be frustrating for you to not be able to truly communicate.

I don’t think it’s quite registered yet, but you know something is off.  The first night you kept looking towards the door where he normally waves to you and tells you that he loves you as we settle in for your last nursing session of the day.  We were eating dinner last night and you’d look towards his empty chair.  He was able to call and the way your face lit up hearing is voice was so precious.  The priceless part though was when he said that he loved you and you pressed your forehead to the phone.  As I’m sure we’ll tell you many times as you get older, when we tell you that we love you, you press your forehead to our faces as your response.  When we ask if you love Bear, you press your head to his.  This is your way of telling us that you love us and the fact that you did it to the phone where you hear his voice coming from? Priceless.

Even though you’ve been clingy to me for the past week, week and a half going through a mommy phase, you are still a daddy’s girl.  You hear the front door, you run to the gate and yell at him if he goes to put down his work stuff before picking you up.  You wake up from a nap and you are looking for him.  You love playing find Daddy as he darts from room to room as you run looking for him.  It’s always a great evening for you when he breaks out the guitar or takes you out to the drum set.

Here’s hoping that the time flies quickly and he’s home before you truly realize that he isn’t around.  Here’s hoping for sanity for me as I take on parenting full time without him.  But most of all, here’s hoping that when he returns it’s as if he never left and you run to him with open arms waiting to be tossed in the air and snuggled.

Love,

Mommy

It’s ok not to be perfect!

Dear Baby Girl,

I wish I could tell you I was one of those mom’s that always seem to be fashionably dressed, perfectly made up and able to juggle 50 million things at once and never break a sweat. I’m not. You will probably be embarrassed by me at some point at time.  I apologize now if you are, but I refuse to make myself something that I’m not.

Here’s the thing.  I’m a work at home mom, the only people that see me on a daily basis are you and your father.  So when I wake up in the morning (to you crying to be let out of baby prison, ie your crib) I toss on a pair of comfy pants and a t-shirt and it’s off we go.  Unless I have to go out of the house to go shopping, for a doctor’s appointment or something along those lines, this is normally my uniform for the day.  During the day you will probably stain the shirt or pants as hands covered in saliva melted goo grab on to me before I get you cleaned up.  I’ll look at the stain and simply try to wipe it off and sigh.  If it’s too bad, I’ll find a clean (or at least cleaner if I need to do wash) item and change.

Recently on babywearing groups I’m in there has been this stylish mom.  She’s always perfectly groomed, down to red lipstick that would make my skin look yellow.  Her wrap matches her outfit, her child is always perfectly cleaned and once her high heels matched the child’s outfit. I see these pictures on one group or another EVERY day.

The green eyed monster came out!  I mean, dang, it’s not fair that someone can look so perfect while being a mom!  I start my day taking care of you, first nursing, then making breakfast for us.  We play a bit and it’s off for your morning nap.  As soon as you go down, I rush to get breakfast dishes done and get to work!  I try to get as much done in the hour to two hours that you sleep, then it’s play time, lunch time, some more play time and back for your afternoon nap.  Again, I rush to get work done.  You wake up, we make dinner and eat, have some more fun time and then it’s time for bed.  Hopefully I got enough work done during the day that I can enjoy some relaxing time with your dad otherwise it’s back to work I go!  Wash, rinse, repeat.

Make up?  A little black dress with stunning lime green pumps?  Yea, I don’t have time for that!  When we take babywearing selfies, I’m normally trying to find an angle that makes the bags under my eyes look like a tiny clutch purse instead of a monstrous tote.  I’m looking to see if that strawberry juice stain is hidden under the chest pass and hopefully the shirt isn’t too bunched up.  Let’s check the hair, does it look greasy? I showered… yesterday? No, was it the day before cause you were teething and fighting napping so I barely had enough time to work, let alone shower… As one mom on our local group said, 9 times out of 10, I’m a mombie!

Then I stopped and thought about it.  I don’t wear you for photo ops, though one day I do want to have babywearing pictures taken.  I wear you because it helps us get through the day.  I wear you to give you cuddles when you’ve fallen one too many times and won’t calm down.  I wear you so that I can get housework done or dinner cooked.  I wear you so that your overtired butt goes down for a nap.  I don’t wear you to be a model, I wear you so that life continues and part of life is not being perfect.

I’m not perfect and I will never claim to be so. And you know what?  That’s okay.  If I embarrass you one day by showing up at school in yoga pants and a t-shirt, I’m sorry.  But hopefully you’ve also learned that it’s okay not to be perfect 100% of the time.  If you can at least remember that, I will have one small victory as a mother!

Love,

Mommy

P.S. It’s 2:22 and there are no stains on my clothes yet, so we are winning!!!

Dear Daughter

Dear Daughter,

The title to this blog is ‘Letters of Love to my Children,’ but you are my only child right now.  Maybe one day you’ll have a little brother or sister (your dad is hoping for a brother), but right now you are it.  My only child.  My firstborn.  My daughter.  The apple of my eye.

There are so many things over the last 11 months that I’ve told you and while I’m sure that those words are locked away in your brain somewhere, unless we figure out how to unlock baby memories you will never remember them. (This might be a good thing, I’ve gotten frustrated a time or two….or three…)  I’ve thought so often about doing something like this, but with being a military family I was afraid paper letters would get lost. E-mail accounts could end up closed.  The internet though?  That is forever.

One day you may look at this and go “Oh mom, how could you do something so public?”  That will probably be your teenage years.  Hopefully one day you look at this and see it for what I mean it to be, an expression of love.

We are quickly approaching your first birthday.  I’m still in shock over the fact that it’s almost here because at times it feels like only weeks ago that I was complaining to your father about how huge I was, how I couldn’t wait for you to get here.  Yet here we are.  11 months old.  And, pardon the humor, you are still alive.  We managed not to kill you. (Hey, we are first time parents….)  Over the next few posts, I’ll probably jump around over the last 11 months talking about things you’ve done and feelings I’ve felt.  If you want an organized timeline, ask to see your baby book (if I ever got around to putting it together) or to see my Facebook Timeline… If it still exists…

I think what really pushed me to do this today was watching you half walk, half fall (but mostly walk), arms outstretched towards him across our sunroom floor into your father’s arms.  I can’t deny it anymore – You are truly leaving behind that baby stage and moving into toddler-hood.  Just one week ago, I was sitting on the floor in front of you, bits of teething cookies in my hands trying to convince you to take your first steps.  Your dad was there… He managed to look away both the first and second time you took a step.  But that’s okay, cause he saw when you first walked more than a step.  That’s the important thing!  Through out the last week, you’ve tentatively started to let go of your little walker or the chair or couch or whatever you used to pull up and take a few steps.

It boggles my mind how fast you learn things right now baby girl.  I have no words to describe the pride I feel watching you as you grow.  I can only say that one day, when you have your first child, you’ll understand what I mean.  Three months ago you had just barely started army crawling. And I mean just barely. It was slow going and you would get maybe a foot or two before you got tired and stopped.  You got good at it quick and there was no stopping you.  Then you finally realized that if you got onto your hands and knees you could go faster. Man, can you go!

Then came pulling yourself upright into a standing position and by the middle of May we’d gotten you a little push walker.  It took you about two weeks, but you soon had that thing figured out and off you went… so long as it was a straight line.  Yet time passed and you started to figure out not so much how to steer, but that you could also push it from the front or side if you got stuck somewhere.  You were there, but not quite.  Little by little, we encouraged you, held your hands and helped you.  You didn’t like that very much.  You are an independent young girl even now. If we tried to help you stand and walk, you’d go limp and sit.  We put you in front of your walker and you were gone!  Then came the steps.  I still get a tad teary thinking about it.

You’ve hit so many milestones already: Holding your head up, rolling over, sitting up,eating solids, crawling, pulling up to stand… But this one is the one that really is pulling at my heart strings.  Why?  Because it brings you out of being a baby.  Don’t worry though baby girl, you will always be my baby.