Friday, February 10, 2012

Dear Lauren,

You are growing longer, taller and wiser by the day.  Sometimes I have to get real quiet and alone and think back to those first precious moments that we spent together.  In those moments we were the only two people that existed in the whole wide world.  Just me and you.  In those thirty seconds of the doctor telling Dad to get his camera ready and you being removed from my body, well, it all changed.  I changed to the core.  Nobody could have prepared me for that moment.  No one could have warned me that although life was about to turn upside down, my heart would never beat the same or feel the same.  I was cut wide open, literally and figuratively. 

You are so kind and intuitive.  You are crazy intuitive.  You are wise beyond your years.  I would like to think you were just like me when I was a child, but that is me presumptuously thinking you are on the same level as me when you are far above me my child.  You have instincts that will serve you well in life.  You have patience and tenderness, both of which I lack.  You have recently started giving me advice on how to deal with your brother when you see I am at my wit's end.  You see that I want to give up, cry and scream  Oh, but do I scream.  And you have to deal with ME dealing with HIM. And you remain so sweet through it all.

Sometimes I think you are more mature than I am.  Tonight when we were doing Valentine's and putting together all the treat bags for your school party, your brother was melting down at the same pace as I was melting down.  The velocity in which I can go from cool mom to crazy mom is quite impressive.  But you see it.  You feel it.  You didn't want me to yell anymore or freak out or act like a person who needs to be medicated. You simply said, "just give him a piece of paper and tell him we are going to do a craft."  You learned this technique from another wise family member, your Aunt Lisa.  Only your brother, in his three year old mind, knew that we had ALREADY crafted your Valentine box.  He wasn't having it.  

In that moment of your suggestion, I felt I was so ill equipped to be your mother.  I felt tears near the surface. I wanted to say, "I'm out!"  In that moment I felt like I sucked so bad I wanted to exit stage left and have the real mother come into the scene.

You are so precious and perfect and I love you with such passion.  I think I show you and tell you daily.  I hug you and kiss you and fill your head and heart with genuine praise.  But I know that you get bogged down in the pursuits of a family raising a three year old that just isn't he same kind of three year old you were.  I know you get tired of the yelling and crazy mother.  For that I apologize.  But please know that everyday you teach me how to be a better person, mother and friend.

You are the light of my life.  You are getting smarter everyday and you can read new words every week.  You have interests in things that excite your dad and I.  You inspire me.  You make me want to be a better person.  I love you Lauren.  There are so many things going on in the world today that I can't explain. But I need you to know that there is nothing you could ever do that would cause me to stop loving you.  

As you navigate your way through Kindergarten, I am navigating my way through being your mom.  Hang tight sweetheart, we have a long way to go.  So far, so good.

Love, Mom

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