Letters For Lucas

Wonders, Mishaps, Blunders and Joy.. commentary on my life as a mom in the form of letters to my son

Motherhood

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Motherhood can be a roller coaster ride. Each day is different from the last. It is not for the faint of heart or weak stomached.

Motherhood is calculating the number of diapers and extra clothes you think you might need knowing no matter how many extras you pack, you will not have enough.

Motherhood is reluctantly allowing one (or two) special treats because of the adorable way they were asked for.

Motherhood is beaming with delight when three complete strangers compliment you on your two year old’s inflight behavior.

Motherhood is begging your child not to open the door of the public bathroom stall while you’re half naked. Repeatedly.

Motherhood is sweating through your pantyhose as you struggle to get a car seat installed correctly in a rental car.

Arriving at Tucson International Airport.

Motherhood is rising blood pressure and thinning patience when your son will not sit still, stop whining, or accept any of the activities you’ve brought for him to do while at a very adult function.

Motherhood is quickly scrubbing crayon out of a pew cushion before anyone notices.

The scene of the crime!

Motherhood is coaxing a child to eat and worrying about his nutrition intake, but still offer ice cream in exchange for ten more bites.

Motherhood is pretending to call the ice cream store only to find out they are closed.

Motherhood is capturing small moments that will forever be etched in your memory.

No trip to Tucson would be complete without a visit to Bookman's, our favorite used bookstore.

Motherhood is doing three loads of laundry in the middle of the night, wiping sweating brows, singing lullabies and willing whatever nasty bug has attacked your child to leave him in peace.

Motherhood is searching the Internet at 2 in the morning and again at 3:15 for tips on how to treat a dehydrated child.

Motherhood is heart swelling tenderness as he reaches for you and only you.

Motherhood is heavy sighs and silent gratitude as your poor sick child finally drifts off to sleep and do does your leg because he’s in your lap.

Motherhood for me was all of the above over the last 24 hours. All of the above and an indescribable willingness to do it all over again. That’s motherhood.

 

A HUGE big thank you to Lucas’ aunt Leah for all her help on our quick and very eventful trip to Tucson.

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I’m His Mom

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While at the park today, someone asked me if I was Lucas’ babysitter.

Could it have been the hoodie and Converse sneakers that prompted the question?

It certainly wasn’t the lines on my face or the hair pulled up in a bun on top of my head.

Or was it?

Don’t we look alike?, I thought.

Don’t we have the same blue eyes?

If you spent any time with the two of us together, you’d recognize in an instant the same short temper, extremely strong will and an inability to sit still for too long.

If you listened to us, you’d hear the same phrases coming out of our mouths and inflection in our voices.

If you watched us chasing each other across the grass, you would have heard the infectious laughter than only two people that spend as much time together as we do can share.

If you looked closely, you’d see an immeasurable love and a bond so pure that only parent and child can share.

If you could look into my head, you’d realize how much space is occupied by thoughts of this boy’s well-being, including his daily nutrition intake, overall health and happiness, growth, sleep cycles, education, relationships, and striving to be the best role model I can be.

I wish you could see the way he reaches for me as if I’m the only person in the world .

We have the same blood running through our veins and his heart is mine as mine is his.

Babysitter?

No. I am way more than his babysitter, “I’m his mom.”, I stated proudly.

I’m lucky enough to be his mom.

 

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I Pray…

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I first came to know Stephanie of Where Are My Supermom Boots? when I saw her hilarious vlog, My First Vlog! about “mom” attire.

Her sarcasm and wit came through the camera loud and clear and I’ve been a fan ever since. Seriously, I may have peed in my pants a little. Go watch it after you read her very touching letter Stephanie has written her children with a message we all hope for when it comes to our children.

To my children,

Tonight I watched you go through the routine of bed, your eyes grinning at me as you shared the memories of your weekend. A special weekend. One away from your father and I, one spent with your grandparents. A weekend full of movies, games and laughter, love and probably more chocolate than I ever want to know about! And, as your excitement filled my heart I realized that you are growing up. Beginning to take small steps away. Beginning to learn who you want to be. And so I began to pray…

… I pray that you will always look at the world through eyes of wonderment and possibility. That a rainbow will always have the ability to make you stop and look up. That the smell of a summer storm will make you breathe deeply and savor the air. That you will ALWAYS want to catch the biggest snowflake on your tongue.

… I pray that you will be close to each other. Maybe not in distance, but in your hearts. I know that you will fight and make up. You will slam doors in each others faces and that one of you may question me one day “Are you SURE that we are related?!?!”. But when it matters, may you always find your way back to one another.

… I  pray that you will always have the strength and the confidence to stand for what you believe. To know the difference between what is right and what is wrong and to have the ability to walk away from the wrong choice when it is offered to you.

…I pray that you will both know that you can talk to us, your parents, with no fear of judgement. To know that, while we may not always agree with your choices, we will always love you. That your place in our heart is guaranteed.

…I pray that you will not be afraid to take risks. To step outside your comfort zone and experience something new. To look at a new challenge with excitement and not dread.

Eventually you will grow out of weekends with your grandparents. You will have jobs and a driver’s license and parties. You will graduate and move out. You will get married and start your own families. But no matter where you are or what you do, my prayers will always stay the same.

Love always,
your mom

 

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Ashes To Ashes

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Each time the topic of what to do with my parents comes up, I freeze. I don’t have any deep thoughts on the subject, I just become mute. 

My sister would much very like to scatter their ashes somewhere special, a place where we could go and “visit” them, she says. A place that is quiet and just for them and us, too. A memorial with a plaque or bench that would allow us to pause and reflect and remember.

Sounds peaceful, right?

I understand the importance of establishing a permanent memorial to help us deal with the continued cycle of loss, but I like them being on the top shelf in my closet, side by side greeting me each and every morning.

As strange as it may sound seeing their urns and knowing that they are there is comforting.

But I suppose she’s right, it would be nice to have somewhere to go.

But where?

Arizona might be appropriate. They loved the desert (even in the dead of summer) and all of our fondest memories of them are of our time there together in their home in Tucson. Selfishly though, how often would we get out there to reflect? 

Although they weren’t water people, I have always thought being scattered at sea would be pleasant/romantic/circle of life-ish, but apparently there are all sorts of regulations and somehow that doesn’t feel right either. 

Most couples have special places that they enjoy being together, but I can’t think of where that might be for my mom and dad.

My aunt once suggested somewhere near the college campus where they met, but that doesn’t make sense to me. Canyon, Texas was definitely a pivotal location in their history, but it was only a starting point for all the amazing things they did.

My parents spent almost 30 years living in far away places; Asia, Africa, South America and not one of them stands out as their proper resting place. 

As much as I would like to help my sister through her grieving process, I hope it’s okay that they just hang out in my closet for a little while longer. Plus, I have visions of them attending her wedding someday.

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A Hundred Hearts

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Lucas is 2 1/2 years old today and they were right. I was warned. Everyone that said it goes by fast. By it, of course, I mean childhood…. mine, yours and especially our children’s.

One minute it was just Todd and I and the next we became a family by bringing home our newborn son. Fast forward in lightening speed time, we began celebrating all of his amazing milestones and he soon turned one and then two and now attends preschool, sleeps in a twin bed, lives on macaroni ‘n cheese and has begun asking us all sorts of inquisitive questions about the world around him.

Right before our eyes Lucas has turned into a little person… a wonderful, thoughtful, strong-willed, energetic little person.

I constantly search for the pause button and desperately try my best to stay present so that I don’t miss a moment of his childhood.

I want to remember these days of sweet innocence and discovery forever.

A hundred hearts would be too few
To carry all my love for you.
– Author Unknown

Linking up with Galit (These Little Waves) and Alison’s (Mama Wants This) Memories Captured.


The photo above was created using picnik.

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I Am Thankful

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Letters For You will resume next week.

Until then, from my home to yours, have a warm, wonderful and safe Thanksgiving holiday!

Look at what Lucas made for me at school ~ swoon ~

The best part?

As soon as he gave me this card, he said he needed to make another one and when I asked if that was because he had more things to be thankful for, he replied “Yes, Daddy!”.

I am so thankful for my family, but especially my little Lucas.

Linking up with Alicia’s Wordful Wednesdays.

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One Tear

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If you’re looking for a great mommy juice er… I mean, Cabernet, Merlot, Shiraz, or Chardonnay, Rachel is your gal. Her wine column on Momtastic is awesome!

Rachel also has her own blog, Mommy Needs a Vacation and I am happy to have her (straight off a Hawaiian vacation) as my Letters For You guest today with a beautiful and heartfelt letter to her father.

Dear Dad,

Tuesday, August 24, 2010 was one of the longest days of my life. Not only did it involve a long plane flight, it involved the most worry I had endured in my life. You had been lying in an ICU hospital bed for ten days and were now on life support. Your body invaded with infection; MRSA infection, in your lungs, in your spine. We still did not know if it was in your heart. The flight was a long one.

I stepped off the airplane in Hawaii and was immediately overcome with the hot, sticky air. Yet, I was cold, with a shiver that I could not shake. On the way from the airport to the hospital, my younger brother John explained your condition to me in more detail. He told me about the machines, the beeps, and the tubes. I had experience visiting a loved one in the ICU before when Sadie was born, but I knew this time would be different.

As I made my way through the hospital, I tried to hold my head up, stay strong and most of all, keep my emotions at bay for Mom. I was there to see you and be by your side, but was also there to support her, be her sounding board, be a shoulder for her to cry on.

Once inside the ICU, the coolness, the sounds, and the smells were almost too much for me to withstand. I passed room after room of extremely sick people and wondered what you were going to look like. More importantly, I was worried that you would not know that I was there.

I worried that I was too late.

As I entered your ICU room, the sight of you took my breath away. Lying there, helpless with IV’s, tubes and the giant breathing tube down your throat. Even though John told me it was important to approach and talk to you normally, I still hesitated.

I worried that you would never know I was there.

I worried that you wouldn’t make it.

I worried that I wouldn’t be strong enough.

I approached your bed, took your swollen hand and squeezed it tightly. John opened your eyes and told you that I was there and just for a small moment, you focused on me. You then quickly slipped back into your slumber, but not before a single tear left your eye and ran down your cheek.

It was in that one tear that I knew I was not too late.

It was in that one tear that I felt the hope grow inside of me.

It was in that one tear that I knew you would be okay.

As I sat across the table from you just this past week while visiting you in Hawaii, I couldn’t help but think about the last time I had seen you there. This time was much different. I got to enjoy your company, hug you, drink fabulous wine with you and watch you be a grandfather to my children.

Thank you for being you. Thank you for fighting for your life. Thank you for being my dad.

I love you,
Rachel

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Dear Grandma Honey

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I’m honored to have Monique, better known on Twitter as SurferWife here today with a tender letter to her dearly departed Grandma Honey.

After reading this, be sure to visit Monique’s blog, A Day in the Life of a Surferwife and search for “celebrity encounter”. You’ll be glad you did!

Dear Grandma Honey,

Just those first three words up above create a pit in my stomach and a clenching in my throat. How do I even begin to express my gratitude and appreciation for all that you have brought to my life?

Even though you were ALuckyDame of A Beautiful Mess and also my husband’s maternal grandmother, you were still my grandma, too, in all aspects of the name. Considering I met and started loving you when I was a mere 12 years old, gives us more time spent together than I ever had with either of my own biological grandmothers, that both passed when I was a teen.

Your cute, fluffy little white hair, high pitched, little grandma voice, your happy smile and warm eyes were all crucial pieces in you becoming everybody’s adopted Grandma Honey.

From the day I met you and Grandpa Bud, more than 22 years ago, I felt an instant connection. I always felt like you genuinely cared about me and my well being. When I went off to college, I eagerly awaited your cute handmade and hand stamped holiday cards. At any family gathering, I could count on you sitting me down and asking me about every element of my life. Your many questions about what I was eating and why I was so skinny, if there were any suitable boys to date, and if I did my homework always left me with a smile on my face and a giggle in my heart.

When I came home nine years ago with my sweet baby boy Jason, you showered him with gifts and welcomed him into your life with open arms. That alone meant more than the world to me and I hope you knew that, Grandma.

And then when your beloved grandson and I announced to the world that we were an item a couple years later, you and Grandpa Bud gave your blessing and told me what a perfect match we were, and why didn’t we figure this out years before when we were kids?

We celebrated the birth of your first great-grandchild, my daughter, on the day you buried your husband. It was an honor to be such a crucial component on a day that encompassed the circle  of life for you. I could see the love and admiration in your eyes every time Haley reached a milestone. Just pure and unconditional love between a grandmother and her great-granddaughter.

Our time we spent together these past six years, when I legitimately became your granddaughter through marriage, is invaluable to me. Our long chats over McDonald’s ice cream, nutty bars and many lunch outings always left me so satiated and grateful to have a grandma that was loved by so many. The bond we shared will leave an eternal smile and place in my soul.

My heart hurts terribly knowing our conversation full of giggles and gossip have come to an end on this earth. But I hold tightly to the notion that we will do it again  in another universe, Grandma. Thank you for loving me the way you did. I feel like the luckiest granddaughter-in-law ever for it.

Delphine Long - September 26, 1919 - September 18, 2011

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Adding To Our Family

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The last time I owned a pet (other than a fish), I was 13. 32 years ago today (!) my family got a puppy.

The day we brought Licorice home, October 5, 1979.

Part Labrador, part Poodle and way before they were called Labradoodles, Licorice was black with a little patch of white fur on her chest. She was sweetest and smartest dog I’ve ever been around.

Running along the ocean was one of Licorice’s favorite activities and we had to spell the word beach or she would go bonkers.

Despite sleeping at the foot of my bed, to be fair Licorice was my mother’s dog. We had her for six years and when we moved, we gave her to some friends that lived down the street.

My mother and Licorice, circa 1982

It’s time for another dog.

My husband STRONGLY disagrees.

ARGUMENTS FOR GETTING A DOG:

  • We’ve been wanting to add to our family. A pet would be a perfect addition teaching Lucas responsibility and giving him a wonderful life long playmate.
  • We have a large backyard with plenty of room for a pooch to roam.
  • I don’t think a more unconditional love exists than the one between a dog and it’s owner. Even when you’re feeling (and acting) miserable, they still love you.
  • Lucas really like dogs, although to be honest (much to my chagrin), he seems like more of a cat person. WE WILL NOT BE OWNING A CAT!! EVER.
  • I love to walk and vow to be in charge of this daily (and nightly) activity.
  • Extra security… for when my husband travels.
  • Opportunity to give a dog a second chance by adopting or saving a pound puppy.
  • Who could resist these precious faces?

Image courtesy of Pinterest. Click image for source.

Image courtesy of Pinterest. Click image for source.

Image courtesy of Snowesti. Click image for source.

ARGUMENTS AGAINST GETTING A DOG:

  • Discovering my favorite shoes chewed to smithereens.
  • We can’t even potty train our son, how would we ever potty train an animal?
  • No more spontaneous (or the other variety) trips – kenneling is expensive.
  • Vet care, food, toys, bedding, treats, etc. are also expensive.
  • Training. Ugh!
  • Shedding. Sigh.
  • Poop.
  • Saying good-bye is inevitable.

Okay, he may have won this argument… for now.

What do you think? Do you own a dog? What love and hate about pet ownership?

This post was written for Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop, 1.) Share a disagreement you’re having with someone and let your readers be the judge!

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