Letters For Lucas

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

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Being There

Posted on November 9, 2010 Written by Tonya

One of my favorite blogs is Sherri’s Old Tweener. She is a self proclaimed “forty-something mom looking for humor in everyday life” and the way she writes is not only witty, but extremely heartfelt and very relatable.

Sherri is a loyal Letters for Lucas reader and comments on almost every one of my posts. Her words always make me feel better about myself, what I’ve shared and what I’m going through as someone who still considers herself a new mom.

If you don’t already follow Old Tweener, you should and if nothing else, please check out one of my very favorite posts, Exit Interview. It’s a superb look at the changing role of mother as our children grow up.

I am honored to have Sherri guest posting for me today on what she wish she had known when she first became a mother. Thank you and cheers, Sherri!

Reading Letters for Lucas always takes me back to those early mommyhood days, and I love how much heart and honesty Tonya puts into her writing. I was so happy when she asked me to do a guest post! I tried to imagine what advice I would give her, as an old mommy to a newer one, if we sat down for a virtual glass of wine.
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When my son was first born and I was wading thigh-high in the overwhelming details of new motherhood, there were some things I thought were so important. Things that if done properly, would ensure that my little guy would be the perfect child.

You know which child I am talking about. They are usually seen only in tear-jerking movies or in commercials for diapers or baby food. They smile on cue, are early readers, easy potty-trainers, sleep through the night from the start, and never drool or blow out a diaper.

Now I know that child doesn’t exist. What a relief.

I wish someone had told me that sooner, rather than me having to spend the better part of 16 years to come to that astonishing conclusion. That some of the things that seem so important when you have small children really don’t matter. Things like:

Developmental Milestones

There, I said it.

Did you know that some of these milestones have huge windows during which they can happen? I didn’t. And I spent a lot of time observing my kid, other kids, reading mommy books, and making lists.

Get a bunch of infant/toddler/preschool moms together and the topics turn rather quickly to milestones. Has yours rolled over? Crawled? Babbled? Got teeth yet? Used a straw? Written his name? Dressed himself? Learned Morse code? And so on.

And for the most part, kids find their own way of doing things; maybe not even in the “right” order. Unless it really seems like something to consult your pediatrician over, it seems like a lot of these can just be things to let go.

My son never did a “true” crawl; his style was more of a butt-scoot with crazy legs and arms propelling him all around the house. He went on to actually walk, ride a bike, run, and develop the standard teen slump in his shoulders. Talking? I don’t think he’s ever stopped. And while he does now dress himself, I would like to see more of his clothes in the hamper than on the floor.

Academics & Preschool

As soon as the toddler phase started, along came the whole academics phase. Unfortunately, this phase is still going on at my house, and will continue as he goes off to college next fall. It starts with letters, colors, sounds, naming things, and just explodes from there.

I worried about selecting the best books from the library, reading him Dr. Seuss and Shel Silverstein, teaching him all the right names for the dinosaurs, and sending him to the right preschool. Did it matter in the end? Not really. What mattered was that I spent time talking to him, reading to him (whether it was Sports Illustrated, Garfield comics, or Dr. Seuss), being involved, and answering his questions. So many questions. And now that he’s a teenager, the preschool he attended doesn’t matter at all. Nor does the fact that I actually pulled him out of preschool the spring before he went to kindergarten because I decided he didn’t need it. And he was fine.

Stuff

We all want the best for our kids, and at no time does that ring truer than when we buy them stuff. I really, really wanted the right stuff for my son…whether it was the Little Tikes car he could drive, the adorable playhouse, or the dinosaurs he obsessed over.

And now? All that stuff is long gone or crammed into boxes in the attic (if I can’t bear to part with it just yet). I think what really mattered wasn’t so much that he had the latest and greatest toys when he was little, but just that he had things to spark his imagination.

Some of our best times were spent with sand buckets at the park or in the kitchen with utensils, pots, and pans doing a pre-Wii version of Rock Band. Sometimes I filled the sink with water, pulled up a step stool, and let him have at it. Food coloring in the water made it an instant ocean for his dinosaurs; bubbles made it a volcano; ice cubes were perfect for the polar bears.

Don’t get me wrong; I still bought him way too many things when he was little. Add the fact that he was the first grandchild/nephew on both sides, and he got lots of loot. And we had fun with it.

But looking back now, so much of it was overkill and unnecessary.

If I could go back and do the infant/toddler years again, I would:

  • Leave the dishes in the sink now and then. They aren’t changing, but the kids sure are.
  • Make a mess more often. Mud washes out, water dries, and paint fades. Memories don’t.
  • Cuddle on the couch when they want to. Because they won’t always want to.
  • Break the rules more often, just because it’s fun.
  • Be more spontaneous. I worried so much about my son’s schedule that we may have missed out on some fun things. Not anymore.
  • Remind myself that the days may seem long, but the years are short.
  • Laugh with them more. Even if I don’t think it’s that funny. Because it’s good medicine.

They fly through those younger years on jet-packs it seems, so put your helmet on and just be there. Because really? That’s all those little ones really need.

Related Posts:

  • Bassinets, Cribs & Sleigh Beds
  • Back To School
  • Just The Two Of Us

Filed Under: a mother's guilt, change, guest post, motherhood Tagged With: a mother's guilt, change, guest post, motherhood

Letters For Lucas

Posted on August 27, 2010 Written by Tonya

I can’t believe I have been at this for one year today! Over 300 posts.

Letters For Lucas has gone from what I thought would be a passing phase to an absolute necessity and something that I think about all.the.time. I enjoy writing more than ever and I am grateful for all of my readers and especially the comments that they leave.

This is my outlet and documentation of my son’s childhood and my life as his mother.

I am proud to be apart of the mommy blogging community, look forward to the next year and beyond and I’m thrilled to have Lucas’ dad guest posting here today for the first time.

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Lucas,

I know that I rarely call you by your name, but since this will be printed and is somewhat permanent, I’ll refrain from calling you Babu, Bubba, Crazy Larry or P. Your mom started this blog as a creative and social outlet in the hopes of helping her understand and enjoy a new role in life, motherhood. In her early posts, she wrote to you. Things progressed to her writing about you. Shortly thereafter, she began to very bravely write about herself. While you will appreciate the first two formats, it’s in the third where you will get to know her best. I, on the other hand, am a private and emotional person who will always share with his thoughts and feelings, but I plan to do it discretely. I’m a reluctant guest here, but I love your mom deeply, so I’ll share with you, 110 confirmed followers and god knows how many unregistered lurkers, some things I know about being your dad.

I wasn’t worried when we brought you home from the hospital. With nearly twenty hours of classroom style preparation, immaculate transportation, fully outfitted nursery and a college fund in place, I thought my next job was to continue looking cool and hand out cigars. Somewhere between five miles from the hospital and five days of being home, I realized that I had studied for the wrong test, you didn’t like riding in the car, you didn’t want to sleep anywhere but in a swing at the foot of our bed, college was a long way away, nobody looks cool without sleep and none of my friends or family smoke.

Watching every single recorded minute of the three-week-long 2009 Tour de France with your newborn son is heaven on earth. From Saturday, July 4 to Sunday, July 26 we watched the top cyclists in the world ride over 3500 kilometers. With a coffee in one hand and my month old son (you) in the other, getting up at 4:30 has never been so great. During the four-hour broadcast I got to watch you wiggle, yawn, sleep and hang out while your mom got a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. In case the 2009 TdF ever comes up in conversation, please remember that we (you and I) decided very early in the race that it was naïve of Johan Bruyneel and Lance Armstrong to expect a talent like Alberto Contador to serve as domestique to the aged seven-time champion. Contador danced on the pedals like a full-figured kid chasing an ice cream truck and earned his rightful spot on the podium.

I will never, ever forget how I felt the first time you were injured and to make matters worse, it was my fault. You were about seven months old and were really starting to enjoy rough play with me. I would roll you around on the bed while you laughed and laughed. I would stand you on my chest and say “Lucas you’re crushing me” while you stared in awe. Then one day you were laying on my chest and I rolled you off onto the couch unexpectedly. You landed on your little hand and I heard a few cracks (worse than cracking knuckles, but not quite bone breaking) and then you screamed. I felt awful. Within an instant I thought of every parent on every talk show explaining that they would rather have 10x the pain than watch their child struggle through what they had been through. Thank you for forgiving me faster than you could catch your breath. You’re a big man little buddy.

I assumed more risk than I should have while participating in the Targa Tasmania and living to tell about it will make me a better father. My friend Nick asked me to be his co-driver in the 2010 Targa Tasmania. This legendary five-day rally in Tasmania consists of thirty-nine individually timed stages on public roads that have been closed temporarily for racing. You were ten months old when your mom and I took you to Syndey where we spent a few days as tourists. From there, you and mom went to New Caledonia to see her friends while I met Nick in Melbourne where we picked up the Porsche 911 that we had entered in the race. Nick and I had discussed ad nauseam how we were there for fun and how our overall time didn’t matter. That’s an easy conversation to have over a Subway sandwich, but when strapped into a racecar and staring at a time clock on the start line, that argument enters your mind about as often as gas mileage. We were fast, consistent and getting better everyday until our enthusiasm exceeded our skill. Late on a wet and rainy day four, we took a corner way too fast, ran out of road and hit at tree, head on. Trees don’t move. They don’t absorb impact like when you hit another car or guardrail. We walked away from that impact with our egos and wallets bruised, but our bodies intact. We were lucky. All I could do from that moment on was think about seeing you and mom again at the Sydney airport. With tears in my eyes, I waited for you to pick me up at the airport. Your mom didn’t quite understand the look on my face, but when I hugged you both the way I did, she realized the incident was worse than I had explained on the phone. I was lucky enough to learn that lesson without being injured. Not everyone gets that chance.

Lucas, I promise not to do really dangerous things anymore. I will eat well, exercise, have moles inspected and go to the doctor at the first sign of a problem. I will do my best to be around for as long as possible. You and your mother mean the world to me and I cherish the responsibility that is on my shoulders.

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Filed Under: blog, blogoversary, guest post, milestones, photos, TBW Tagged With: blog, blogoversary, guest post, love, milestones, photos, TBW

Whenever You Call You Friend

Posted on August 25, 2010 Written by Tonya

I never miss Natalie’s blog, Mommy of a Monster and I am so proud of her presence in the mommy blogging community. If you aren’t reading her blog, you are truly missing out.

Natalie is the mother of three; a three-year-old son and one year-old twin daughters. Her writing is witty and heartfelt. She has over 400 followers and claims that I helped her get started, but at this point, we are inspiring each other. After all that’s what friends are for….

Thank you, Natalie for guest posting here today and I wish you continued success and hope that I get to see your beautiful face soon, my friend.

The best is yet to be.

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Having a “friend” can mean so many different things. Sometimes it is someone you have lunch with everyday at work. Sometimes it is someone you talk to each day either on the phone or by e-mail. Sometimes it is a person whom you’ve known forever, but don’t talk to except a few times a year.

Some friends start out as enemies, or end up as enemies. Friends make us laugh, cry, mad, and happy. They support us, encourage us, and hold us when we cry. Some friends are our “fun” friends, some our counselors and some are like family.

We have different friends for different seasons of our lives. Friends can change when jobs do, or when life does. For instance, when you have a serious boyfriend or get married, you might not hang out with your single friends as much. Or when you are going through a difficult time in your life, you might lean on your friends that have also been through similar situations.

I have known Tonya for about 8 years. I consider her a very good friend of mine. I know what’s going on in her life everyday through reading her blog and tweeting with her on Twitter. I know she loves reading, wine, and Dave Matthews Band…music in general for that matter. I know she doesn’t cook very often. I know that she’s lived and traveled all over the world. I know she lost her parents in a tragic accident. I feel like I know her sister, even though I’ve never met her. I know Tonya has an amazing group of friends that she’s been friends with for years, and they regularly all get together. I know she married an amazing man, had the cutest son you’ve ever seen and is happy.

But I don’t know her favorite color. Or favorite food. Or who gave her her first kiss. I’ve never met her husband or Lucas. We didn’t attend each other’s weddings, don’t know each other’s birthdays, and haven’t physically seen each other in years, even though we live less than two hours away from each other. And yet, I still consider her a good friend!

During the years I’ve known her, there were probably four years that we fell out of touch with each other. We first met while working together at a marketing agency. We worked in different departments and rarely talked shop – when we talked it was always on a more personal level. Oddly enough, we never went to lunch together or saw each other outside of work, and yet we still developed a friendship.

We got back in touch (thank you, Facebook!) shortly before I found out she was pregnant with Lucas. We started chatting about pregnancy and all things mom. I found out a few months later I was pregnant with the twins and so we got to experience our pregnancies together.

And when Lucas was born, she joined the new and exciting world of motherhood. The joy, excitement, fear, frustration, worrying, and all other emotions that go with it. Like the rest of us, she realized quickly she didn’t know what she was doing, but kept doing it anyways. And she’s doing it well!

For me and I’m sure many others, when you become a mom for the first time your friendships change. Before I had my son, who is three now, I remember listening to moms praise or complain about their kids and remember thinking “Don’t you have anything else to talk about?!”. I remember moms saying how hard it was to deal with their toddlers and I would think “How hard could it be? He’s a lot littler than you and you’re in charge!” Ha! Little did I know that being a mom does not necessarily mean you’re in charge!

After having my son, I realized that I was stepping into a new chapter of my life, and everything was changing. My friends that had children already suddenly became people that I needed; I had so many questions, needed so many tips, wanted recommendations on everything. I suddenly understood that I knew nothing about being a mom, and each of my friends stepped up to help me.

And those things that I was afraid to admit to myself and certainly terrified to say out loud? Things like “I don’t like my kid today” and “This is not what I had in mind when I wanted to become a mom” or “I’m not sure I can do this”, I finally told a close friend, who was an experienced mom, how I was feeling. And she told me it was completely normal! I’m not a bad mom…I’m just a mom!

I think after having children, our friendships become more open; more honest. We aren’t afraid to say the wrong thing because we (finally) realize there are no wrong feelings when you are learning something new. And let’s face it, motherhood is a constant, ever changing, never ending adventure.

Tonya, I’m glad to be going down the winding, bumpy road with you. We’re in for a fun ride!

Happy one year blogoversary, my friend. I look forward to reading Letters for Lucas everyday. It has and will always be one of my favorite blogs. Keep on writing your beautiful words and sharing your experiences, thoughts, and feelings with all of us. And without your encouragement and support I would have never started my blog. So more than mere words can ever say, thank you for the inspiration!

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Filed Under: friends, guest post Tagged With: friends, guest post

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