Raising Savages

Friday, May 8, 2015

This Crib....

This crib....

... I put all 4 of my babies in it...

... My oldest has an unfortuante "diaper painting incident" in it when she was a year old.

... My second used to scream for 45 minutes before falling asleep in it.

... My third chewed on the side bar until her little baby teeth had permanently indented it.

... My fourth figured out how to launch herself out of it.

And now it's gone. 4 babies. almost 8 years.

I feel like a huge chapter of my mommy career just closed.

Monday, April 13, 2015

Part of my New Year's Resolutions were to be a better blogger.

Why? It's not like I'm getting rich off of it or anything.

Because it's my outlet. Not only is it a way for family up North to see and hear what my crazy kids are up to or how my life is organized chaos, but it's a way for me to pour out my fears,my frustrations, my accomplishments and anecdotes.

It's me time. Whether anyone reads it or not. It's for me.

I decided to stop putting so much damn pressure on myself and remind myself that this is for me. No one else. Yes, I publish it online, but it's mine. And it should be fun. Not stressful. Not a chore. Not another check off item.

It's a chance for me to write when I can and about what I want to. It's a chance to stop. To reflect. To remember what happened that day and how awesomely amazing my life can be when I let it be.

So I'm back.

Maybe.

If I have time :)

Sunday, April 12, 2015

A Letter to My Son on his 20th Birthday

My Darling Boyo -

Today, as a write this, you are 6. A six year old, stubborn, silly, kindergartener. But you are not 6 as you read this - you are a man. A 20 year old man - and I wonder who he is. I can't see who you will become with clarity - I see a fluidity in the man you will be in the 6 year old you are. Will the adult you still be as stubborn as the 6 year old you - working and working on something that interests you until you get it just so? Will the man you are be like the 6 year old you - following the rules until you figure out the game/building/activity - and then breaking the rules to make the game/building/activity better?

You are such a wonder, my boy. I won't lie - having a son terrified me. After all, I came from a family of girls. What does a person do with a boy? But now, 6 years under my belt as your mother, I am starting to figure it out. I wonder at you - you are such a marvel. I take joy in your quick mind, your silly and moody personality, your strong, determined personality. You amaze me on a daily basis - I am in awe of who you are and what you are capable of. I hope the adult you is still surpising me.

I hope you are creative and strong - that you are smart but still see the wonder in the world. I hope that if you are going to throw a punch, you can take one (both literally and figuratively). I hope that you do something that makes you happy - and know that you are going to make a lot of mistakes. I really hope you know that is okay. I really, really hope that you learn from them. I hope you can cry - out of pain or joy - to clean your soul. I hope that you find your faith so that you have comfort. I hope that you are honest and kind. Always be kinder than you feel.

Treat women the way you would want your sisters' boyfriends to treat them. You are growing up in an age of technology and who knows what new app or technology will be around when you are 20. Remember - no one wants to see your penis in a picture. Don't take pictures of your body and send them to anyone - once they are out there they are out there for life. Don't give away anything you can't take back.

Be a good brother - listen to your sisters. Defend their honor (or get out of their way so they can defend themselves). They will be with you long after your father and I are gone. They will remember who the six year old was when I am not around to remind you.

May you always try to make the right choices, not the easiest ones. Have the courage to lead, not follow. And ALWAYS dream bigger than most others think is possible.

I hope you know that you can talk to me about anything. And I am so proud of the boy you were and the man you are.

I love you,
Mom

A Letter to My Daughter on her 17th Birthday

My Sweet Three Year Old,

Happy 17th Birthday my love! As I write this, you are 3 but you are 17 as you read this - getting ready for your senior year of high school (I think), almost an adult but not quite yet.

I wonder who you are, my 17 year old daughter. I wonder if you are still as stubborn and silly as the three year old you is - if you still manage to still the spotlight the way the toddler you does. I wonder if you still embrace life with a smile and a laugh full of joy and mischief. I wonder if you still tell knock knock jokes that you don't get, if you still dance and twirl and sing at the top of your lungs. Your favorite three year old activity is to make up songs - I wonder if you are still musical and writing songs.

I have so many hopes for you my 17 year old darling. I hope that you believe in magic and fairy tales, that you are not such a cynic in today's technological world that you fail to see the wonder in nature, the romance in simple tasks. I hope that you are enough for yourself and that you value who you are more than you value anyone else's opinion. I hope that you are still talking - for 3 year old you, your voice was your lullaby. You started talking the moment you opened your eyes and didn't stop until you fell asleep at night. I hope that 17 year old you still has a voice and that you use it to be kind, and truthful, and gentle, and strong.

You are so beautiful, my angel. I am not referring to outward beauty - that is only what people see, and our eye's fool us daily. You are beautiful in your zest for life - your desire to embrace and to feel every day to the fullest. You are beautiful in your love for animals - how you hug the dogs, and talk to them and sing to them and cuddle them. You are beautiful in your desire to cuddle and love and simply be with other people.

You are like no one else my darling. Be unique and kind and only give to others what you want to give. Teenage years can be turbulent, but remember - storms will make your roots deeper and you stronger. You own yourself - tell your stories, make your choices, be yourself. I am proud of you for simply being you.

I love you and I hope you know you can talk to me about anything.

Love, Mom

A Letter to my daughter on her 16th Birthday

My darling girl -

Today you are 16. I wonder what the teenage you will be like - will you be a sweet, mischevious little monkey like the 2 year old is? Will we get along? I am sure we will fight, but I hope that won't be the crux of our relationship.

Your personality as a two year old is in full bloom. You are sweet and stubborn, funny and curious. You want so desperately to be like your older sisters and brothers and yet at the same time you tell me "I da baby" with defiant pride.

I hope the sixteen year old knows that I love you so very much and, even though we probably fight, that I will do anything to protect you, even if it's from yourself. Being a person is hard sometimes, and I hope you know that you are not alone that your father and I, your brother and your sisters, we are always on your side - even when it seems like we aren't. I hope you like yourself - being a teenage sucks under the best of circumstances but I hope you know yourself well enough to ask if the actions you choose and the choices you make are for your benefit, and not for the benefit of others.

Be kind, my love. If you can't find something nice to say, you aren't thinking hard enough. Laugh every day - even if it's at yourself. Be brave enough to stand up and shout at the injustice, even when it is easier to stay silent. You have a voice - speak the truth, even if your voice wobbles or the truth will hurt. I hope that you know it is okay to ask questions, to cry, to wonder, and that you are enough. Be smart. There is a difference between being able to rattle of the facts taught in school to making smart decisions. Make smart decisions that are good for your long term not just instant gratification.

You are one of my 4 miracles, my angel. I hope you know that - that I think you are a miracle. That you are a miracle. That you are amazing and smart and funny and joyful. You are perfect just the way you are - and I wouldn't change you for a single thing. I hope your life is as amazing as you have made mine.

You can talk to me about anything. I love you so much!

Mom

Saturday, January 24, 2015

A Letter To My Daughter on her 21st Birthday

Before my children were born, I decided to write a letter to them when I was pregnant, one when they were born, and one every year thereafter on their birthday.

My Darling Girl -

Today you turned 7 - but you are reading this at 21. I hope you are sober enough to understand what you are reading -- and the mom in me hopes you don't go out and get rip roaring drunk just because you are 21. But the former 21 year old in me realizes that you probably will, so I hope your best friend who goes with you stays sober enough to pour water down your throat and give you some aspirin before tucking you into bed.

I think back on this past year and I am constantly amazed at who you are and how wonderfully powerful you are. I remember how terrified I was at you starting first grade in a public school, and how you handled it with grace and humor. I think about how quickly you are growing away from me -- new friends, new activities, new interests that I am not a part of -- and while a part of me wants to hang on that much tighter, I realize that I have to start to let go so that you can make mistakes, and learn, and experience.

And dammit, it's hard.

At 21, you are once again moving further away from me -- (hopefully) into your own house/apartment, own work, own friends, own activities and own interests that I am not a part of. I hope that your father and I have given you guidance and background to make good choices. I hope that you know that I am proud of your accomplishments and the choices you make because they are yours and you own them.

And I hope you remember - to be gentle and strong and to fill yourself up with art and music and learning and experiences. To simply feel. To take time each day for you - to pray, to breath, to think. Don't ever stop thinking and learning. Be generous and kind - build others up, don't tear them down. Take chances and risks. Fly when you can and pick yourself up and try again when you have too. Be confident -- the kind of confidence that comes from being fine when not everyone likes you. Not everyone will like you. That's okay. This ride you are on, this life - it is awesome. And yours. And I hope it is everything you want it to be.

I know that being a person is hard sometimes. You are not alone. Even though I'm letting go, I am still here when you need me. I always will be.

You are amazing and brave, independent and smart. You are beautiful and funny, joyful and creative.

I hope you know that you can talk to me about anything.

I Love You,