Letters For You

I Pray…

Posted on February 7, 2012 Written by Tonya

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

From The Mother Of A Precious Preemie

Posted on January 31, 2012 Written by Tonya

My Letters For You guest today is Erin of My Little Miracles. This woman is a true survivor and has a thing or two to say to prematurity in preemies and does it with only the grace and stye that a mother can.

Please welcome Erin!

Dear Prematurity in Babies (in particular MY baby),

You think that you may have won, laughing at me all the way. Bringing my baby, my youngest into the world 8 weeks early. Were you trying to prove something? Did you just want there to be another Virgo in the household? Maybe you knew we had just bought out house 2 weeks prior and were scheduled to move the day after you threw my youngest into the world?

You have done several things in bringing him into the world so early; you have made me fiercely over protective of my baby. I worry about him constantly, he didn’t meet “normal” milestones. He didn’t crawl until almost a year, I had to carry him everywhere until he was 18 months. At 2 he still wasn’t talking. We went through testing for autism followed by speech therapy and countless sleepless nights wondering if I was a good mommy.

You brought him into this world not breathing, you gave him a narrowed airway and to top it all off you threw in a little asthma. Thought that would be fun did you?

Because of you we have spent to many days in the hospital for RSV, more than enough hours in the ER, way to many nights being woke up in the middle of the night by that croupy cough and that struggle for breath that sends us running and we have had our share of breathing treatments, steroids, antibiotics and worry.

But two things you didn’t count on, Me being his mom, and Him being able to stand up to you. Aside from all that you have done to try and strip me of my happiness with him, and drain his spirit for life, you have failed, miserably.

You may get him down and out every now and again, and you may have me up worrying and crying for all that he may be missing out on. A childhood where he sometimes needs to say “I can’t run and play today with the other kids because I have asthma”.

I wanted to let you know a few things you failed to do, you failed to destroy the bond that he and I will always have. You haven’t taken away his ambition and his strive to be everything he was meant to be. And most importantly, despite all the oxygen you have deprived him of, he is the smartest 3.5 year old little boy and only getting smarter!

If that isn’t the biggest flip of the bird from him to you, I don’t know what is!

You really should think next time you bring another baby into the world before they are ready, because they will give you a run for your money!

Have a nice day!

Sincerely,
Erin, mother to a precious preemie.

Dancing In My Heart

Posted on January 24, 2012 Written by Tonya

I am delighted to have Kim of Mama’s Monologues as my guest for Letters For You today.

Kim has three boys, a baby on the way and yet still finds time to write from the heart and occasionally enlist her husband in some of the most hilarious vlogs for VlogTalk!

Kim is here today with an endearing letter to her grandfather, a man she clearly admires and misses every single day.

Dear Pop-Pop,

It’s been over 6 years since we’ve said our goodbyes. Some days it feels like you were just here with me. Other days the pain is so fierce and so strong that it feels as though it’s been a lifetime since I have seen your face.

I miss your smile and your deep hearty laugh. I miss your confidence and your sureness.

I miss our talks and your advice. I miss your eagerness to hear the next tale from my heart.

I miss our rides on the Ferris wheel, being stuck at the top, overlooking the ocean. I miss feeding peanuts to the seagulls on the boardwalk. I miss being taught how to play Frogger on the Atari in your rec room.

I miss hearing about our family history, your war stories, and how you fell in love with Mom-Mom. I miss watching you do the Mummer’s strut.

I miss hearing you rant about the Phillies losing to the Mets, calling them bums, declaring you’ve given up on them, yet tuning in to the very next game routing them on.

I miss watching your eyes sparkle as you watched my first born play. I miss watching the love radiate from you in complete awe of him.

There are so many things that I miss about you, Pop-Pop.

But most of all, I miss that you are not here.

I wish you could have been there to see me walk down the aisle on my wedding day. I wish I could have danced with you that evening.

I wish you could be here to meet my youngest boys, and in a few months, hold the newest addition to our family.

I wish you could be here. To hold, to hug, to talk to, to share with, and to love.

But I know that in a special way, you are. You’re here watching us, guiding us, and smiling down on us.

So for now, I will celebrate. Celebrate the life you led, the love you gave, the joy you brought, and the legacy that will live on.

Pop-Pop, I love you, with all of my heart and soul. Thank you for being who you are and loving me for who I am.

I hope you are dancing with Mom-Mom up there. You will dance in my heart, forever.

Love always,

Your granddaughter

Blah, Blah, Blah

Posted on January 17, 2012 Written by Tonya

Everyone knows Liz, she is the wonderful voice behind a belle, a bean & a chicago dog and co-founder of Eli | Rose Social Media, LLC, the most helpful social media Web site around!

I am very proud to have Liz as my guest today with a letter that I hope she will STRONGLY consider hand delivering the next time she encounters this out-of-touch, insecure, boastful mom.

Dear Mom at Gymnastics,

Sitting up in the viewing area, I hear moms make what I’d consider to be unnecessary comments about their kids from time to time. You can tell when some moms worry that others are seeing their child perform not at their best during gymnastics class. Not that I condone that behavior, but it’s something I can tolerate.

You and your over-the-top bragging, on the other hand, are completely intolerable. I feel sorry for the woman you vaguely recognized and then lassoed into a 15 minute show-off session about how amazing and out-of-this world spectacular your 7th grader is. I also feel sorry for your younger daughter who was trying out that gymnastics class; you made it very, very clear that she is your “difficult” child because her grades and lesser number of extracurricular activities aren’t as impressive as your 7th grader’s.

It’s such a shame when one of our children doesn’t make us feel like an incredible mom when we talk about them, isn’t it?

Now for your 7th grader? I don’t care that she’s (supposedly) never made even 1 B in her whole entire life. I don’t care that you want to send her to the most – in your eyes – prestigious private high school because “each student has their own counselor and by the time they graduate, they have a whole portfolio to show off to prospective colleges.” Oh, and thanks for mentioning that “everyone who goes to St. Agnes goes onto college because you wouldn’t go to a school like that if you weren’t.”

Competitive cheerleading? — Blah.

A role in a play? — So what?

You having her sit for the SAT even though she’s only in 7th grade “because colleges will start to track her now”? — You.make.me.sick.

You and your stuck-up 7th grader can gloat all you want because I’m putting my money on your “difficult” child being the happiest, most secure and most normal one in the bunch.

Chew on that for a bit, won’t you?

Signed,

The Average Mom who Feels Sorry for your Extreme Insecurity

A Moment Of Grace

Posted on January 10, 2012 Written by Tonya

I always know what I’m going to get when I visit These Little Waves; a welcome pause from my hectic day and demanding tot, a warm fuzzy feeling in my heart and a smile on my face.

Galit writes the way I hope to someday. Her words are tender and delicious, inviting and rich with description and full of life. Galit’s letter this week is no exception. I dare you to read it and not come away feeling a little warmer from the inside out.

I am very honored to have my friend here today sharing a single moment that helped her through her early days of motherhood.

Dear Beth,

I know that’s your name even though we’ve hardly spoken. Our teaching days were busy and our schedules were different, but I remember you.

We passed in the halls and nodded our Good Mornings. Your flowing dresses, plum colored hair, and black tinted nails a sharp contrast to my crisp lines and sharp edges.

You were vivid.

I think “new” is the best word to describe how I was then. New Minnesotan, new teacher, new mom.

Every week, my lesson plans were thoroughly penned and strictly followed. I wanted to know exactly what to expect – in everything I did.

Motherhood stretched that shade of my skin.

One time, you witnessed this.

Jason brought the girls to school for a visit

Kayli was three-ish and a rule follower, Chloe was one-ish and anything but.

She was mid-tantrum when you walked by.

Belly down, arms flailing, legs kicking, voice rising.

And I? Was lost. Blushing, sweating, tearing. Lost.

I was kneeling next to Chloe when the scent of your perfume, flowers and sunshine and all that is strong, caught me. In return, you caught my eye.

Shoulder back, chin up, smile wide. “Two?” You asked.

“Very.” I answered, brushing a strand of my hair behind one ear when what I really wanted to do was pull it forward, hide behind it.

But you didn’t let me.

You reached for my hand and said, “So been there.” And with one squeeze, you went on, your fuschia parting the way.

I’ve kept that moment of grace wrapped in my heart.

You opened my eyes, didn’t let me take myself too seriously, and reminded me of all that is kindness and all that is grace.

And for that? I thank you, and remember you.

Galit

The Golden Years

Posted on January 3, 2012 Written by Tonya

A couple of months ago, Rachel of Mommy Needs a Vacation shared a beautiful letter for my series, Letters For You called One Tear.

Rachel wrote a heart wrenching letter to her father, Stinson, whom she was afraid of losing the year before.

Stinson read his daughter’s letter for the first time the day it ran here was compelled to respond.

I am extremely honored to share his words to his daughter with all of you today.

Dear Rachel,

I’ve had a chance to read the letter you wrote several times today. Each time I read it, it brings me to tears. It is not only well written but so obviously heartfelt and sincere. It is a treasure I will covet the rest of my life.

I very much enjoyed this past week when all of you were here. It was a wonderful week in which there were so many special moments with each of you individually as well as a family as a whole. More times than I can tell you during this past week, I thought about the last time you were here with Sadie and Tyler (June 2010). That wasn’t nearly as good a visit because as you know, I was only days away from back surgery and in horrific pain the whole time you were here. It was almost impossible to enjoy the kids on that visit because of the pain although I do remember that the kids were both sweet in their own way and seemed to understand I wasn’t feeling good. There were times they each made me forget about the pain—Sadie asking if I had my yogurt and bread for dinner and Tyler crawling at the speed of light across the room after who knows what.

This past week was a stark contrast to your previous visit. Whether it was Sadie or Tyler asking to use my iPad, hugs in the morning and at bedtime, the expression on Sadie’s face when “driving” the golf cart or Tyler reaching for me the afternoon I got him up from his nap, so many moments generated special memories of fun times and represented the blessings of a life I almost lost. Sharing some of the best wine I have collected over the years with you was something I had dreamed about when you were Tyler’s age but little did I know at the time that the enjoyment of wine would become a shared passion.

Playing golf with you and Josh was something I couldn’t have fathomed in June 2010. Getting to play golf with Josh so many times during the week was wonderful not only because it was fun but because it was special to spend some one on one time with my son-in-law and rejoice in the fact that he is the father of my grandchildren and husband of my daughter. More times than I can recount, you confirmed how good a mother you are and why you have been one of my most cherished pride and joys for over half of my life. I shall never forget the expression on your face when Sadie and I walked in from “playing” golf. You could tell we had a great time before anything was said and without saying so, your expression revealed that you knew she had enjoyed the time with her grandfather.

Life is a gift that becomes more and more precious with time. When you come as close as I did to losing it, as you so aptly expressed in your letter, it becomes all the more precious as experienced last week. Your mother and I are, I suppose, in what is often called the “golden years” and you, Josh, Sadie and Tyler are a big part of why they really and truly are “golden.”

I love you all,
Dad

One very happy grandpa, Christmas 2011

Reflections

Posted on December 31, 2011 Written by Tonya

The real man smiles in trouble, gathers strength from distress, and grows brave by reflection. – Thomas Paine

As I took down our Christmas decorations yesterday, I thought about my year. As always, it was full of ups and downs, sweet memories and milestones, moments I wish could have lasted forever and days that I would never want to relive. All I could think is I hope 2012 has more of the same. Well maybe a few more ups than downs.

One of the many reasons I love having a blog is the chronicling of my life, which in large part revolves around my sweet boy, Lucas. Letters For Lucas is a place where I can share my thoughts and receive an abundance of support, no matter what the subject matter.

My 2011 recap would not be complete without mentioning my weekly series, Letters For You, which I launched in September. I am so proud to host this series and I’m constantly overwhelmed by its warm response.

This year, I attended my first two blog conferences and was finally able to meet many of the women that have meant so much to me in the blogging world and am pleased to now call IRL (in real life) friends.

I enjoyed going back and re-reading my 2011 posts and had a lot of fun choosing these photos and my favorites, all that I feel sum up my year.

Click each photo to find my favorite Letters For Lucas post from that month.

Please enjoy and however you choose to ring in the new year, be blessed.

Linking up with some of my favorite bloggers and their awesome, I-wish-I-had- thought-of-that link ups:

Happy New Year, everyone!

My Sweet Ethan

Posted on December 27, 2011 Written by Tonya

Many of you may not know this, but Natalie (Mommy of a Monster) and I go way back. In a former life, long before either of us had children, let alone a blog, we used to work together at a very hip advertising agency.

I liked Natalie from the moment I met her and it had nothing to do with the fact that she was the human resources manger and we were reviewing my new employee paperwork.

Natalie is “good people”, as they say and we connected on may levels, but most notably through our love of reading. We exchanged books back in the day and have shared must-read titles ever since.

We have long since moved on from the agency and started families and the rest is sort of cyber history. While we may have lost touch over the years, I am proud to call Natalie a friend and confidant and I am overjoyed to have her close out my Letters For You series for the year.

Natalie is a good mom, too and her letter to her eldest son, Ethan is heartbreaking and chocked full of mommy guilt. I know I can relate, can you?

My Sweet Ethan,

I can’t believe how big you are already. It seems like just yesterday I found out that you were growing in my belly, our tiny miracle that we had been waiting for after so many years of trying to have a baby. You are and always will be my true love and the biggest wish that I ever had granted.

Four years old. Already.

I have a confession to make to you right now, one you won’t be able to understand for many, many years. I feel like I am a bad mom. I feel like I’m neglecting you somehow, not giving you the time and attention you need and deserve. Your sisters are only two years old, and they demand a lot more of my attention throughout the hours of the day. I know I say “not now”, “later”, and “I’m too tired” way more often than I should, and even more often than I’m sure you want to hear.

Sometimes, after your sisters have both spent the last thirty minutes taking turns throwing fits while I’m in the middle of cleaning or cooking dinner, you ask me for something…sometimes it’s something as small as a quick read of your favorite book or for me to turn on your favorite cartoon. And I snap. I snap because I’m tired and at the end of my rope. You don’t understand any of this, and I am working on reminding myself of this and reprimanding myself when I realize that I’ve done it yet again.

I need you, my sweet boy. I want you to always love me and feel comforted by me. Yet I’m afraid that I’m pushing you away. I am having a hard time trying to figure out how to give you and your sisters all that you need without losing the person that I am. I don’t want it to be this way. I am really trying to be more patient and to give you more of me. Please know how important you are to me and how much you mean to me. Please know that I am doing the best I can. Please know that being yours and Lila and Mia’s mommy is much harder than I thought it would be. Please know that I want to be a better mom and that I want to be able to give you my all. Please know that I know that I’m not succeeding right now, but that I really am trying.

Please know that I love you with every ounce of my soul.

Someday, you will be a dad and I am sure you will nod your head as you are reading this because you will understand. Until then, I promise you that I will try harder. I love you, E.

Mom

To My Mother-In-Law

Posted on December 13, 2011 Written by Tonya

Jessica of Four Plus an Angel is one of my favorite bloggers.

Her loss is as deep and wide as her strength is fierce and admirable and her words never fail to take my breath away.

I am so honored to have Jessica here today sharing a letter to her mother-in-law.

To my mother-in-law,

I wonder how common it is for women to feel the tug to write to their mother-in-law as I do. Our relationship is certainly not average and, although there are many things I wish were different between us, there are no limits to what I want to thank you for.

Your son rarely talks about his childhood. I never push but once in a while find memories to paint my own picture of the mom you were. Our similarities begin with steamy mugs of tea and getting lost in books and I wish I knew where they end.

As much as I live my life through the written word, I find myself at a loss in trying to explain my gratitude to you. I remember the first memory my husband shared of you, reaching for your wig after a fall, not wanting your children to see you in such a state.

Seeing your son in my sons allows me a glimpse of the childhood you watched unfold and I wonder if there is a time you knew. If there was a day you looked at your son and knew you would never see him graduate or you lifted your daughter and knew you would not choose her next Christmas dress. I wonder how you lived with such pain and yet left your son with only visions of your strength.

In so many ways I feel I know you, although we have never met. The respect for women you instilled in your son, the familiar red hair that streaks through my daughter’s curls and the amazing pieces of your nurturing my husband delivers carefully to our own children.

Navigating the intricacies of motherhood, I am in awe of the legacy you left behind. That the path you started for your son led him to me and to fatherhood and to unending patience and overflowing love. That the love you were able to pour into a fraction of your children’s lives has carried them to the point they are today.

I can only imagine the mother you must have been and the grandmother you are to my daughter, as she sits contently in arms that were empty for far too long.

Sending you so much love,

Your daughter-in-law

My favorite picture of my mother-in-law, visiting Santa at age 4.

Dear Pops

Posted on December 6, 2011 Written by Tonya

I love Katie and one of the highlights of my year this year was not only meeting her at BlogHer but rooming with her too. I adore her easy going personality and her beautiful words at Sluiter Nation.

I am so very pleased to have Katie here today with a touching letter to a father-in-law she never had.

Dear Steve…

No. no. that is not right. Let me try again.

Dear Slippery…

No. That is not right either.

Dear Pops…

That is better, I guess. Though I never was able to get comfortable calling you anything. That time was stolen from both of us.

It’s not fair that you were taken less than two months after I joined the family.

But you know that too. So I am not going to spend time on it.

I want to tell you things. I often start, but don’t know how to continue. I never got that one on one time to find my voice with you. I don’t know what our conversation would sound like.

I want you to know that Cortney is doing everything he can to make you proud. He takes care of me and his siblings. He reaches out to both his sister and brother to let them know he is there for them. He keeps up with his step-mom the way you wanted.

And last Christmas he was there to be the head of our family when your dad…our Gramps…died.

He knows he is the eldest generation now, and that is a heavy load to bear.

But he is not the last.

I want you to know about your oldest grandson, Eddie. But you already know about him, don’t you?

I know that you do because I see your silliness…your dimples…your spirit in him. I know Cort does too because it makes him smile a sad smile at times.

And I get a feeling Eddie knows you too.

Maybe it’s the way he points you, Papa, out in photos.

Maybe it’s how he tells me Louis, the cat, went to live with Jesus…and Papa…in Heaven.

Maybe it’s just the look in his eye.

Often times, Cort teases Eddie and tickles him until he gasps for breath, and when I tell him to stop, he says, “my dad did this and I lived.”

I know he thinks of you often and wishes he could go through this dad thing with you by his side. I know he would like to show off his boy to his dad.

Especially because we’ve got another son on the way. Charlie will be here in March.

Two Sluiter boys to carry on the name.

Will Charlie be as “Sluiter” as Eddie is?

Will I see you in the sparkle in his eyes too?

Will I see the past, present, and future of both Cort and me all at once like I do in Eddie?

What I do know, is that I wish you were here.

For Cort.

For the boys.

For me.

I miss something I never really had.

A father-in-law.

Love,

Kates

I Pray…

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