Inspired by Sausage Mama, I am going to write a monthly letter to my children. I hope to capture these moments in time because they go so quickly. To quote Amber Strocel, “blink and you miss it.” (two great, positive blogs, please check them out)
I hope you will join me in writing a monthly letter to your children and linking it up here. Feel free to grab the badge for your website and let me know when you post so I can add you to the list of participants.
Dear Little Buddhas,
I am finally writing my first letter to you and I’m more filled with joy at beginning this than I am with guilt over the years I’ve already missed. I think about looking back later myself and seeing a snapshot of things I’ve forgotten. I think of you reading this when you are older and my hope that it is meaningful to you. I think of family and friends, people who love you that may read this and treasure you all the more.
You’re 4y 8m old now. You are very into Star Wars and legos. Naturally Star Wars legos are your favorite sets. Lately, you have taken to designing your own Star Wars ships and vehicles in addition to building the sets.
It is fascinating to listen to the Star Wars technical knowledge and vocabulary you have memorized. You can tell me the names of every droid, weapon, ship, and character from the entire franchise. I am challenged to keep up. And you explain character nuances like you play with them daily.
Two of my favorite expressions you have right now are, “I love this ____. It’s my only hope.” and “There’s traffic on the freeway. We had better outflank them.”
You are practicing jujitsu, yoga, and ballet all in preparation for Jedi training. You are constantly making connections between things that blow me away, like how you can love someone but not like them all the time.
Lately, you have been making a high-pitched scream at our dog and not treating her with respect. I wonder if you are modeling the frustrations that you see your dad and me feeling toward her or if it is simply because you know you will get a reaction from one of us. I’m working on gently connecting with you about it.
You’re 2y 7m old now. You are very into Pirates, Peter Pan and singing. And if you can sing “I am the Pirate King” from Pirates of Penzance or “I won’t grow up” from Peter Pan, you are pleased. And if you can do it nekky butt, sword in hand, standing atop the sofa, you are infectious with joy.
It’s hard to get an unblurred photo of you lately because you’re always on the go. You have a serious expression most of the time, but when one of your smiles comes, those melty, gooey brown eyes slay me.
You definitely want to be playing with the bigger kids and while we’re blessed to have friends that are very respectful of all ages, quite often you end up getting hurt. It can be challenging to comfort you while respecting your boundaries. You are both highly independent and fiercely affectionate.
Your vocabulary is astounding. I am constantly being asked how old you are from people who cannot believe someone your age can express himself so well. Your vocabulary often outpaces your tongue’s capabilities. And I have the feeling that what you want to express often outpaces your large vocabulary.
I often forget how young you are and expect more of you than is developmentally appropriate, but you are quick to forgive me when I lose my patience and then apologize to you.
You are 8m old. Often, I cannot believe it. Your birth is still so alive with me (as are all of them, really.) You had the newborn squishiness for less than the blink of an eye.
I have never encountered anyone as full of joy as you are. You have been since your birth. I often wonder if some of those in utero belly bouncings I thought were hiccups were actually you practicing your laugh. Your smile is huge and promiscuous.
You are just content to be. I can tell you know how loved you are because you give so much of it back. And not just to me, although you are all about mama right now of course, but to your brothers and dad as well. Sometimes it is a toss-up whether you want mama or N.
You started crawling in December. Now you are not only pulling up to stand and cruising along the furniture, you are also beginning to glance into open space as if deciding when the right time will be to walk on your own. I want you to slow down, but I can see in your eyes that you have already set your sights on it.
My baby girl, you would be 3y 6m old now. I think of you every day. I miss you every day. I remember you. You are my daughter. I love you. I miss you and all that you would have been.
My love shines through me so strongly for the four of you, it’s a wonder I can contain it at times. Brighter than my love, though, is light that shines from within you. When I catch glimpses of your dancing inner spirits, it fills my heart to bursting. If I can do nothing else in my life, I hope that I can help you hold the world at bay just enough that you keep your connection to your dancing inner spirit-your true self.
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