A good conversation can happen anywhere

I try to write these little notes to you unedited.  It's hard, because right now you're a sweet, innocent little 18 month old girl without a care or concern in the world.  For me to decensor myself, and still think of you is rough sometimes - despite the fact that you'll likely be well into adulthood when you finally discover all of this.  The swiftness of time becomes painfully apparent as a parent.  I want nothing more than to stop the world for just a short moment, so I can drink this time in a little deeper.

I've been talking more to God lately.  Why I tell you this, I'm not sure.  Maybe for no other reason so that you know I do talk to God.  It's not to say I'm religious.  Religion is a man-made thing.  But I've been spiritual for most of my life.  I like the ideas in many religions - Buddhism, Wicca, Christianity, Islaam... but I've just never been able to trust the interpretations of man.  We are all faulted.  Anywho, back to my chats... I used to talk with  God on a regular basis.  Daily, even.  I'd stare at the stars at night and just... talk.  Sometimes it was about nothing.  Sometimes it was about troubles.  Many times it was about all the good there was.  And for whatever reason, I always had an overwhelming feeling that I was being listened to.  Now that's not to say that prayers were being answered constantly.  More like a big shoulder was there for me to lean my head on and ramble on to.  In the past few years, my conversations have become almost non-existent.  I have no other reasoning but getting wrapped up in my own life.  Being so exhausted at the end of the day that I literally collapse and pass out.  It's not healthy, being stuck in your little bubble like that.  I've missed my chats - something that was always personal and comforting.  So I've made time, now.  Gone back to speaking with God about not just my life, but all that's around me.  Keeping a spiritual presence with me.  I think it's something that so easy for us to lose.  For whatever reason, our spiritual connections tend to go by the wayside to make room for more seemingly important things like laundry and money and careers.  None of those things are as important as staying spiritually grounded, Bug.  I can't say that I know who is on the other end listening.  Maybe it's God.  Maybe it's an angel, or a passed loved one.  I really don't know.  But I know there's someone on the other end who gives a damn enough to listen to me gripe.  And to listen to me gush.  And to listen to me cry.  I know there's someone listening the way you know the tv is on, even when there is no volume or picture.

Now more than ever, I need to keep connected.  Unlike me, you will not grow up going to church.  So it will be all on me and those who love you to show you to your own spiritual path.  There will be no mindless repetition of stories and rituals, and no religious instruction book.  There will be you and I, and all those around us who love us, and a Greater Existence that we cannot possibly understand.  I hope I can teach you to love and appreciate that Being we call God.  Because I can say with all the certainty I have that He (or She or It) is there and watching us and rooting for the good that He put in our hearts to win over the nonsense our brains tend to make.  Please don't ask me how I know.  I just do.  And I hope that you will connect yourself enough with this Earth, with people, and with even the littlest of creatures to find that our yourself.

I'm off to have another chat while both of my loves sleep soundly.  Clearly, I have much to say thank you for.

<3

I ought to just watch more "I Love Lucy"

Every time I read the news, I can't help but wonder what in the world I've gotten you in to.  We're in a sad state, Bug.  I can't lie.  The entire middle east is blowing itself up, Japan is leaking nuclear waste into the ocean, oil spills seem to abound, people in the biggest and richest nations have no health care, groups are still fighting for rights and equality, and don't even get me started on Charlie Sheen...

The optimist in me thinks that you and your generation will find a way to fix it all.  That you'll be better than us, and can fix our fuck up.

The pessimist in me thinks that y'all will make it worse.

And the realist in me thinks that the world has been going to hell for centuries, and will probably continue to do so for generations to come no matter what.

On the bright side, we have each other.  If I can teach you to love your neighbor, to be kind and considerate to living creatures, to show compassion, and to love with reckless abandon - then I suppose there is hope.  But I'm not entirely certain on how to teach you things that I haven't quite learned myself yet.  I think maybe that sort of learning is generationally reversed - meaning, you'll likely be the one teaching me.

We all need to learn quicker.

Getting set to leave work.  Can't wait to see your smiling face, and to fall asleep drooling on your father. :)  

Love you.  <3

They're just so soft and sweet....

Dear Bug,

I want to record your tiny bug snores so that I can fall asleep listening to them for the rest of time.

Love,

Mom

Pretty

Everyone is always saying how pretty you are...  your Godmother sent this during a chat we were having and said "it makes me think of Lily".


As your mother and the first strong female influence in your life, I hope that I can teach you that a woman's beauty is not measured by how flawless she is, but rather is created by the stunning mosaic of her imperfections.  A picture that tells the story of a life and soul, not of someone else's ideal.

Lily Jennifer, it's true:  You are so much more than pretty.

The Big Question

The most common question I get these days is "So when are you having another one?"  Apparently once you have one child, you're expected to be a baby making machine.  I'll be completely honest, though.  I'm very torn about giving you a brother or sister.  I grew up the youngest of 5, which meant that I was both surrounded by siblings at one point in my childhood.  But having such an age gap between all my sisters and I also meant that I was the only kid in the house for a good portion of growing up as well.  Before you came along, I always assumed that I'd want more than one child.  After all, how could I deprive my kids the complete awesomeness of siblings?  But now you're here... and as awful as it sounds to say this... I don't know that I want to divide my attention.  It almost feels selfish.  You're just so amazing and fun and cool!  I want to spend every spare moment I have with you.  A second baby would mean less of the already too little Mommy/Lily time that we have.  I hate that we have so little now.  

But then on the other hand, I feel I do you a disservice by not providing you with a sibling.  Sibling rivalry is a healthy part of growing up - although, that can backfire.  On the one hand, your sibling can be your best friend throughout life, never once wavering.  On the other hand, your sibling can cause you enormous amounts of pain, and you can simply stop acknowledging one another.  It's a crap shoot, perhaps.  I love all of my sisters dearly.  And I think it was good to have one another growing up.  And I can say with 100% certainty that, despite all of our differences, in a time of crisis, we'd all be there for one another.  That's what sisters do.

Still... the thought of a second baby scares the crap out of me.  How in the world would your father and I be able to juggle two kids, when we just barely keep all of our balls in the air now?  It's a silly question to ask, I know.  The answer is, we simply would.  Goddess knows I wasn't at all prepared when you came into being. I had know idea what I was doing, or how we were going to manage.  But here I am, managing.  Perhaps not with all the grace and finesse of other mothers, but managing none-the-less.  So logically, yes, I know we'd be fine.  But emotionally?  I think I'd be a wreck.  

It also seems to be somewhat selfish to have a 2nd child this day in age.  The Earth is already taking so much abuse due to our booming population.  Not to mention, the countless kids that need families and homes.  I've been giving very serious thought to the prospect of adoption.  It feels like that might be the right choice for our family when/if it comes time to grow.  Granted, it's like helping to empty the ocean by taking a tear-dropper full out... but maybe I'll start a trend, who knows?  The only thing I think I'd miss is being pregnant again.  I loved being pregnant.  Never before in my life did I feel so beautiful, so purposeful, and so close to the Goddess as I did when I was helping to create a life.  Your life.  I felt more than whole.  It was amazing, and something I will treasure for all time.  To be able to do that a second time would be a blessing.  But... I would still feel guilty.  To be able to give warmth, love, and family to a child without those.... that would also truly be a blessing.

As you can tell, I'm really back and forth on the whole subject.  Perhaps I'll take your Aunt Jenny's strategy - when you start asking for a sibling, I'll start giving it more serious thought.  For now, I can tell you for sure that I am just too busy learning about you, helping you grow, and smothering you with love to be distracted.  I can say with certainty, that if you end up being my only child, I will still feel overwhelmed with how blessed I am.  and should another baby come along... it'll be that much more love to go around.

words, words, words

You are quite the little chatter box, miss almost-15-months.  Here's a list of words you can say:

mama
dada
da (cat)
shoes
up
baby
bug
nite-nite
bye-bye
hi
brush
uh-oh
all done (sort of...)
frog
car
cup
no
juice

Ok.  At least, these are the ones that come to mind right now.  You love to try and parrot your daddy and me.... means we have to really start being careful about what we say!  Pretty soon, you'll be talking in sentences!

2010

My Lilybug,

I feel like I should have awesome words of wisdom for you in these letters, but let's face it - by the time you read these you will certainly know that I just make things up as I go along.  It's 2:21 am on January 1st, 2011. I've was trying to reflect on 2010 as we all drove home tonight.  It was a tough year for not only us, but it seems for a lot of our loved ones.  I'm not sure why that is.  Maybe it was how the stars and planets were aligned.  Maybe there was a negative energy that we all fed off of.  Or maybe it was just stupid bad luck and coincidence.  Who knows...

We bought our home in 2010.  For most, this is a joyous occasion.  For your father and I, I think it pushed us both past limits we didn't even know existed, and tested strength we didn't know we had.  The move was a disaster.  The house is disrepair.  I was a new mother in desperate need of quiet sanctuary, and had only chaos.  Your Dad worked day and night to do everything he could (and somethings he probably shouldn't have done himself...) to make this little house our home.  But we started to feed of one another's frustration, and lived in our own heads too much.  Somehow, we made it out alive.  Although, just barely, I think.  In the end, I know that your Dad won't ever truly understand the level of appreciation I have for all that he put himself through just for the sake of our little family.  Something I could not make seen through all my frustrations and aggravations.  But now here we are in the midst of complete renovation.  In the end, I know it will be worth all stress and insanity.  There will be sanctuary for us all.  Knowing that gets me through.  There's always a light at the end of the tunnel, Bug.  You just have to spin in circles to find the right direction sometimes.

In 2010, we lost our Rocky Dog.  My heart still breaks when I think about him.  I know that you will never remember him, but he really was the greatest dog ever.  Although the added stress of an ailing elderly dog did not help and tensions with your father and I.  But we always came together when Rocky needed us most.  Especially in the end, when he needed our help to simply let go.  Your Dad still carries Rocky's collar in his coat pocket.  He's not quite the same without his best friend by his side... there's just a tiny less spring in his step that nothing will replace.  Just goes to show, a best friend truly can come in any form.

2010 saw fractures in the foundation of what we call our family.  Hurt feelings, misunderstandings, resentment, repressed anger, and poor communication seemed to be running themes in all our lives.  Some relationships survived the ongoing quake.  Others were not so lucky.  Your Grandmother believes that everything happens for a reason, even the bad things.  I can't say if that is true or not, Bug.  But I can say that I can see the good that came out of all the bad for me.  And I can say that I am a better person now, than I was at this time last year.  I hope to say that again next year.  And I hope you experience the same in your life.

I am not sorry to see 2010 go.  It was a hard, but necessary year.  Like they say - you've got to get through the rain to see the rainbow.  I think 2011 will be a rainbow year for us.  And I will appreciate all that we survived in 2010 the more.  Don't overlook the good in the bad, Bug.

I love you.