This post is a day late.
It should’ve been written and ready to be read yesterday morning.
I think I’m still catching up from my daughter’s spa, slumber party this past weekend.
Yesterday I was woken up by my trusty iPhone at 6:30am. I usually snooze a bit, but my mind kicked into gear and screamed, “YOU FORGOT TO MAKE COOKIES FOR YOUR BIRTHDAY GIRL, GET MOVING!”
So move I did.
I think I tend to work well in short spurts, under intense pressure.
Did you know you can brush your teeth, get dressed, dress your kids, bake cookies from scratch, make breakfast, and lunch, pray, AND leave your house at 7:44am to get your kids to school before it starts at 7:55am?
Yeah, I didn’t either.
In fact, I was already contemplating stopping in at the office for late passes whilst baking.
Let it be known… it can be done.
You’ll be wiped out for the rest of the day and all your chores, but your kid is happy. That’s all that matters. Showers? Meh, smell me later.
By the time I returned home from our frantic morning, I had one goal. Get the birthday post up.
However, I made the mistake of deciding to find a quick photo and/or video of my daughter. I pretty much spent the day looking at old pictures, and watching videos that I couldn’t get enough of. It all took me back in time. Then it made me wonder, “WHERE IS THE TIME MACHINE? WHO is working on it? WHEN is it going to be done? I’m ready to go visit!”
When I go back in time to visit, I’m going to kiss the bejeezus out of my baby’s cheeks. I’m also going to send myself up to my room for a long, leisurely nap. Well, as long as I can sleep, before my boobs need to be pumped, or eaten from. I’d also let myself have a good, long, hot shower. I’d also let myself know that showers will always be a bit of a question mark, no matter how old the kids get.
Then I’d tell myself about how amazing the first child is, and will become. I’d tell me to try to hug her close as much as possible. I’d tell me that even now, I feel guilty that I made my oldest a big sister, while she was still a baby herself.
I’d tell myself that all I can do is double down hard on loving my oldest. I’d tell myself that man, this little one you brought into the world, is damn smart. Not just book smart, she’s heart-smart. Empathy from this old-soul daughter is staggering, and awe-inspiring.
Now that she’s nine, she moves in-and-out of wisdom, and pre-teen emotions on a dime. It confuses, and baffles me. At the end of the day, this daughter who plays the piano because she loves it, and never needs to be asked to practice, will also choose to try the saxophone. She’ll illustrate her journal with the most darling pictures. She’ll read her journal to me because she loves to share her writing, just like me. She will spend hours learning to knit, because she wants to. She will keep her room clean and tidy because she likes to. She will observe human behavior and ask me about it, she will want to know not just the right answer, but why that answer is right, and how things work, and why people do things, she is honest, and her character is true, and I’ll be brought to my knees in humility because I know the only reason she is in our home, is to teach me to be better.
I’ll tell myself that she’ll thank God for her daughter because while she reveals my weaknesses, and faults, she also demonstrates, and leads me to the light, and shows me the better way.
While I sit there in tears, with my younger self, I like to think that she’ll turn to me, and remind me to be patient with our daughter, and myself, and to remember to just love her. We will sit there together, hoping we both can be the mother our daughter needs, and that she will forgive us for our mistakes, and understand the depth of our love and devotion to her.
My dear munchkin,
You are my superstar, my oldest, my first. You are my example, my light, and my hope. Your fire to do your best is inspiring. Your love for your family, and for those that are blessed to be your friend is precious to behold. Your zest for life, your joy, and your fun is a gift.
Thank you for being in this family. Thank you for choosing to be here, in this time, in this place. We need you. We love you. We will always be here for you. You are ours, and we are yours.
I love you.
ps. It’s late afternoon, and you’re trying to finish all your comprehension questions, and it’s resulting in you being stubborn, and making it harder than it is, and me exasperated. There are also tears. Nine year old emotions are hard, and I’m tired. We’ll get through this, yes?