Skip to main content

You Say It's Your Birthday


 
My dear Pumpkin,

 Today is your birthday.  I have decided that one of my gifts to you each year will be to write you a letter saying all the things I want to say but don’t or can’t, or that I need to but haven’t yet.  I know this “gift” won’t mean much now, other than to myself, but I need to know you have these letters when I’m gone, whether that be next year or in 50 years.  I want you to be able to hear my voice and know how very much you were loved.  And even when it doesn’t feel like it, I want you know that I understand you.  I want you to know that you are the most amazing little girl in the world.

Today you are three.  Some moments I find myself looking at you and barely recognizing the little girl standing where my tiny baby once was.  I hear words out of your mouth that are beyond profound.  I see flashes of understanding in your eyes that lets me know you get things that you are not even able to fully process.  You are a thinker.  You feel deeply.  Sometimes I know you are at a loss for the words to tell me what you are feeling and I know that is frustrating.  Unfortunately, being very much like you, I know that frustration will be with you to some extent for the rest of your life.

I see the sorrow in your eyes when you little sister cries.  I see the concern on your face when someone else is hurting.  You are empathetic and compassionate.  Do not ever lose that.  The world will try to change that – to harden you.  Do not let it.  Love the world.  Love people.  Love really is all that matters.  It seems too simple to be true.  But it is oh so true.  Even when it seems the whole world is against you, keep loving.  If you do, you will win in the end.

Because of your tender heart sometimes it seems you cry too easily.  I do that too.  It can be frustrating, embarrassing even.  People take it as a sign of weakness.  You are not weak because you cry.  Never be ashamed of your feelings.  When you need to cry, cry.  Sometimes a good long cry is the only thing that will make you feel better.  Sometimes you won’t even know why you are crying, but even in those moments try to find the words to go with your tears.  The words will make you feel better too, so don’t keep them in.  I will always be there to listen to them, even when you don’t see me.

More than the sorrow and the tears though, I see the wonder and joy and amazement in your little heart.  Hold on to those too, just as tight or tighter than the sadness.  Take chances.  I know you are timid and the world can be scary but take all the chances you can.  Be smart about them of course, but go on adventures.  Make your life an adventure.  Find bits of yourself everywhere.  Explore.  Write your story.  Keep finding joy in small things, as well as big things.  But know that no matter where you go or what you see, you do not need to be found because you are not lost.  Know too, that no matter what you achieve, where you go, or what you do in your life, that you always have a home in my heart and my arms.

Today you are three.  In many ways, I am too.  It seems as though I did not even exist before you and, in many ways, that is literally


true.  I am not the same person I was three years ago and I would not go back if I could.  You make me better every day.  Being your mother has been my greatest adventure, my honor, my pleasure, and has given meaning to my days and my life.


You are beautiful inside and out.  Never let anyone tell you any differently.  Even when you are afraid, you are strong and you can do anything.  This week it was riding a carnival ride by yourself, soon it will be taking on the world.  Either way, mama will be standing nearby watching, cheering, and loving you.  Fly high my beautiful butterfly.  Happy birthday.  I love you.
 
Mama

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

These are the days we'll never forget.

 So many times I have started to come back here, yet for one reason (excuse) or another I haven't. The last time I was here in April 2020, the world had only just started to feel surreal. Fast forward 30-something months and it feels like we are just starting to improve. I guess I haven't felt inspired to write much because we were not living the best of days; yet still, as the song goes, they are the days we will never forget. Since we last met, a major hurricane ravaged our hometown in August 2020, leaving many literally homeless (including my parents). The girls and I lived communally with friends in Baton Rouge where they attended school until our electricity was restored. Our home was mostly spared. My parents lived with us for several months while they rebuilt. My work since that day has been almost exclusively on assisting homeowners with their claims. I brought to trial the first two hurricane cases in Calcasieu Parish and we won both.  Also since we were last here, Aly

I Want You To Have It All

As those of you who follow me on IG know, I've thrown the idea(l) of a work-life balance out the proverbial window. Those scales will never balance and there will be days and weeks they tip one way before dropping back the other. There are times I am baking and carpooling like some modern day Donna Reed with a Best Mom coffee mug and other times where I feel like the Queen of the Courtroom, only to find out my kid didn't have lunch at school or forgot her ballet shoes. As an example, it is a known fact around my office that when I am in a big trial someone in my house is going to have a major illness  - literally these have ranged from pneumonia to emergency appendectomy. Talk about mom guilt - not only am I not there to love on them, I can't even really give them any mental energy until I am out of the courtroom. All of that is to say that life, an parenting, and lawyering are all like that - you win some, you lose some. Chasing some pipe dream of balance and harmony only

Hello! The Phone is Ringing So I Say Hello!

I’m not sure what I expected, really. I guess I thought that when Pumpkin officially crossed the one year threshold into toddler-hood that things miraculously got easier. I had a little parenting-confidence and puffed my chest out just a little as I slowly toddled with her, grasping onto my index finger, to the doctor’s office for her one year appointment (see video for an idea of how slow slow is). I sat proudly in the “well baby” room (a place we haven’t spent much time) remembering the days I sat in that same room crying, looking frantically around for a spare diaper and praying they wouldn’t call her name before I could unhook her from her carseat (which took a long time back then) and changed her diaper. One year later here I was. We had come so far. I was proud of us and I looked at those new mothers with a little knowing pity. In all my one year of wisdom, I sat there glowing with the realization that the hard times were behind us. I didn’t have a “baby” anymore, I had a toddle